


In The Shadows

by Mack_the_Spoon, Namarie



Series: In The Half Light [3]
Category: 24 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, F/M, Gen, Season/Series 03, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 10:16:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2618228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mack_the_Spoon/pseuds/Mack_the_Spoon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Namarie/pseuds/Namarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jack is called in to help CTU take down a particular domestic terrorist group, the raid has lasting personal effects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in sort of the same universe as a few of our West Wing stories, but it's not a crossover because actually crossing over TWW with 24 would be too depressing for us. As far as the timeline goes, consider it kind of a prequel to Day 4 that has implications for that day.  
> This is not really a Jack/Audrey fic - there are hints of it, but hardly any.  
> Thanks to Val for her beta.

Jack knew what was coming as soon as he heard the sounds of growling from the hall outside his cell. Hell, he'd known what was coming as soon as he was captured in the failed assault on the supposed headquarters of Shifter Rights Now – and he had been trying to steel himself for this moment since he woke up from unconsciousness about an hour ago.

There was a sharp knock on the door, and Jack stood up to put his back against the far corner of the room. He wasn't foolish enough to think he could protect himself for long, but he would try nonetheless.

The door opened. A man Jack recognized from the blurry photo that he had been shown at CTU as Hunter, the regional leader of SRN, stepped inside. He was followed immediately by two of his bodyguards, in their wolf forms. The leader was still in his human form, and his open shirt showed off a few scars along with SRN's emblem as a tattoo. “Hello, Mr. Bauer,” Hunter said. “Since I've learned a little bit about you, I can guess that what's about to happen here won't come as a surprise to you.”

Jack clenched his fists. “If you do know anything about me,” he replied, “I'm sure you're aware this is not going to make me into a member of your group.”

“Not a willing one, no,” Hunter agreed. He smiled, his eyes cold. “But you'll be a member.”

Heart pounding, Jack nodded to the wolves, whose teeth were bared. “Do all three of you really need to be in here? It seems a little crowded. But I guess if you think you need the added muscle...”

At that, Hunter's smile vanished. He turned to his guards and ordered, “Wait outside.” As soon as the two animals had left the room, his focus was back on Jack. “Now we're ready.”

Jack waited for the man's transformation to start. Immediately after he saw the first changes begin, Jack launched himself at Hunter, catching him just slightly off-guard. Hunter fell back a pace, and Jack used his advantage to jab at his eyes as well as strike him in the throat. Hunter gave a yell of pain that changed into a mountain lion's scream halfway through. In the next second, Jack's opponent had completed the change into his animal form – a truly huge cat – and his sizable fangs were exposed and all too close to Jack's hand.

Hastily, Jack pulled himself back and steadied himself against the wall. He had gotten in one good attack, and it looked like that was going to be it. The cougar was facing him, ears back and gaze focused. As the shifter leader pounced, Jack shut his eyes and raised his arms to protect his face. There was another growl, and then the animal was on him, driving him to the ground. Even as he tried to kick at the cougar and roll away from it, Jack couldn't hold back a scream of his own when the animal's teeth sank into his left shoulder. The pain was severe.

The cat didn't maintain his grip too long. When the creature did let go, though, Jack was not sure if his continual attempts to kick him off had any bearing in convincing him to do so. He certainly seemed unconcerned as he padded out of the room, job done.

Gasping for breath, Jack put his right hand to his shoulder. It was bleeding, though not as much as a normal animal bite probably would. He knew the pain he was currently experiencing would soon start spreading outward from his shoulder to engulf his entire body. Then, shortly after that, the change would hit. There was no stopping the virus now. He was already starting to feel feverish.

Jack gritted his teeth against the increasing agony any jolting of his shoulder caused and slowly pulled himself back to the corner, to the meager comfort of the jacket he had discarded there when he first woke up in the cell. Once he reached that goal, he allowed himself to collapse to the floor. He was sure Hunter and the rest of his shifters would be watching him via the camera above the cell door. If they wanted a show, he would make sure to disappoint them for as long as he was able to control himself.

Time became impossible to track. The bone-deep pain did in fact spread throughout Jack's entire body, along with fever, chills, and trembling. In moments of lucidity, Jack reflected bitterly that he'd already been through heroin withdrawal not all that long ago, and this experience was turning out almost equally as bad. But at least it would be over soon... In his less-lucid moments, Jack was back on the Salazars' plane, or at the ranch in the back room, still in the grips of withdrawal.

Jack blinked slowly, staring up at the ceiling and shivering. He wasn't sure where he was anymore, or how he had gotten here. He did know something terrible was about to happen, or was already happening … but he couldn't remember if there was something he was supposed to do to fix the problem. He hoped not, because he hurt too much to move right now.

At last, the pain started to fade. In its place, Jack felt as if from a distance the extremely bizarre sensation of his organs and bones beginning to move and shift. It didn't take long until the transformation was complete.

He got to his feet and shook himself free from the pieces of cloth that were partially entangling him. He was in a space too small and unfamiliar to be comfortable. Plus, he could detect the scent of the other male, the one who had attacked him. Cautiously, he crossed to the door, finding to his relief that it could be opened without too much effort.

The hallway was also full of unfamiliar odors. He scented the air, and started to follow its cues toward the way out of this place. But before he could go more than a few paces, he heard a sound from behind him, and whirled around to see a pack of four hostile wolves approaching from the opposite direction. At that same moment, he was flooded with both a surge of energy and a strong need to run.

Turning around, he sped off, as fast as his legs could carry him. He made it up two flights of stairs without anything getting in his way. The way out was getting closer, he could tell. Then he rounded a corner – and came face-to-face with two more wolves and another cougar. It was the other male – the one who had attacked him.

He skidded to a stop, panting. He could hear the sounds of the other wolves pursuing him, and the three animals in front of him did not seem like they were going to move aside. He put back his ears and hissed. Immediately, the other male responded in kind, and the wolves growled. There was no other choice. He would have to fight.

He sprang at the other male, who was clearly waiting for him to try this. They collided in midair; the other cat's momentum drove him to the ground, and he had to struggle to keep the other cat from successfully getting at his throat.

He fought with the big male for several frantic minutes, all the while waiting for the wolves to join in once they saw he was vulnerable. But another attack never came. In fact, after only barely managing to hold his own against the other mountain lion, he was shocked when he was suddenly released. The other male backed off, and a second later the wolves drew back as well. The way out was once again clear. Breathing heavily and smarting from injuries incurred during this latest onslaught, he stared around at his harassers – but when none of them moved to stop him, he allowed his overwhelming urge to run to take over again.

This time, nothing got in the way of his sprint to freedom. The final door between him and the outdoors was open as well. He put on a further burst of speed and pushed through. The cool night air felt good in his lungs. He didn't pause, however; he was still feeling the need to keep going. There was an open field surrounding this building, which provided the perfect opportunity for him to run flat-out, maybe until this strange urgency passed.

As he kept sprinting forward, he became aware of sounds of pursuit again. Ears back, he tried to increase his speed – but his energy was starting to flag. Still he kept running. His pursuers were closing in. Desperately, he looked for a tree to climb or a thicket to hide in. Instead, ahead of him he saw a whole line of animals spread out, waiting for him. There were wolves, a few bears, several cats of various kinds, and … he started to slow down, bewildered. There were quite a few humans standing among the animals. They were standing like they belonged there.

Behind him, he heard a wolf howl. This was answered by a few of the wolves in front of him, and by a few exultant sounds from some of the humans.

Still completely confused and terrified, he tried to change direction, find his way around this group. But they tracked his movements and blocked him off. Soon he was surrounded. He crouched in the middle of this bizarre group, teeth bared, and waited to die.

Some moments later, the big male he had fought before arrived from behind him. This cougar was panting as well, but as soon as he was in front of his trapped quarry, he stopped. A human approached the cougar, carrying something. Then the cougar _changed_ , swiftly and totally, into a human. This human, smiling, took the clothes the other had brought and put them on.

“Jack,” the human said, staring at him, “you're not going to be killed, like I bet you're thinking. You're not going to have it easy, either, until we're sure you're really one of us, but we would never damage you too badly. You're a shifter now. Our brother.” The other humans let out cheers.

It took much longer than Jack liked to be able to understand the words that were being spoken in front of him. Then after he did, he had to come to grips with the reality that he had lost his human identity completely for the last-- however long, after he had transformed. But that was what happened right after infection with this virus, Jack knew. It was to be expected.

“I see you're coming back to yourself some,” Hunter – because of course it was him – said, regarding him closely. “Good. Why don't you lower those hackles a little?”

Jack glared at him, but relaxed his defensive posture just enough to be noticeable. He really wasn't sure what was going to happen next, but whatever was planned, he couldn't deny that he was at the mercy of the shifters surrounding him. At least he was getting a chance to catch his breath.

“Good,” Hunter repeated. Jack noted with cold satisfaction that one of the shifter leader's eyes looked bloodshot and bruised. No doubt his shifter healing ability would take care of that soon enough, but it still gave him a sense of vindication.

“Well. Let's move on. You fought very well on the way out of our base,” Hunter continued, “and you should be coming down off your first transformation rush, so you must be exhausted.” He glanced at some of his followers, and for the first time Jack noticed that those who were in human form were all holding guns. “But you're also a federal agent – or you were – and so I'm not going to underestimate you.” He nodded to one of the men closest to him, who raised his weapon to point it at Jack. Before Jack could do more than flinch, the man fired. Everything went black.

~

When he awoke, Jack was highly disoriented. He was lying on a mat, but the way he was lying felt wrong even as it was perfectly comfortable. When he opened his eyes, the world looked wrong, too: colors were faded and strange, focusing felt totally different than he thought it should, and on top of that he didn't recognize his surroundings at all.

He tried to sit up, and automatically put out his tail to balance himself. Then it all came back to him. He had been captured during the raid, forcibly turned by the leader himself, and then presumably hit with a tranquilizer dart after SRN had surrounded him in that field. He'd had no chance to change back into his human form as of yet.

Blinking, Jack looked around this new room. It was not the same as his previous cell, though about the same size. Other than the mat he was now seated on, there was a small wooden table with a stack of clothes on it, one tiny window near the ceiling on one side, and a door on the other. With his newly enhanced sense of smell, Jack detected two guards outside his door – both shifters, of course – and someone else approaching the room. He waited. The tranquilizer had not totally worn off; he was still unsteady on his feet, as he had discovered when he tried to take a step off the mat. He would bide his time for now.

The door opened, and a tall woman with shoulder-length blonde hair came in, holding a canvas bag and a black plastic case. “Hello,” she said, closing the door behind her. “My name is Paula, and I'm-- well, I guess I'm SRN's official doctor.” She gave him a wry look for a second, and then resumed a more professional attitude. “You must be the new recruit. Jack, was it?”

Jack nodded, lacking any other way of communicating. If he'd been able to speak, he would have had something to say about the word 'recruit'. Instead, he looked at the black case in her hand.

Seeing the direction of his gaze, Paula said, “Don't worry, it's not another tranquilizer. This is the vaccine that will protect you against the S2 virus. Have you heard of it?”

Again, Jack nodded. He supposed it was good that SRN took steps to protect its members against S2, which caused infected shifters to become trapped in their animal forms indefinitely. Assuming Paula wasn't lying to him about what it was, he would accept the vaccine without protest.

“Okay, great. But before I administer the vaccine, I'd like to talk you through changing back to your human form. It can be difficult the first time.” Paula walked over to the table, set down her things, and picked up the clothes. “I'll look away if you'd prefer, once you're confident you can start the change.”

Jack remained where he was as she brought the clothes over and placed them in front of him. He'd read up on what to do in this situation, as had everyone at CTU, but he didn't mind hearing a refresher.

Paula told him the simple key: to focus on a mental image of himself, blocking out other thoughts as best as he could. “That should be all that's necessary for you,” she said, “but I'll be here if you have any trouble. Would you like some privacy?”

For the third time, Jack nodded. Hunter was probably using Paula to try to get him to let down his guard, but he would take advantage of this break in the tension for as long as it was offered.

When Paula turned away, Jack closed his eyes and concentrated on his image of himself. For a few seconds, nothing happened, but before he could start to worry, the unsettling sensation of shifting began. He was soon back in his human form, crouched on the mat. Glancing to see that Paula was still looking away, he quickly pulled on the clothes provided for him, careful to avoid his bitten shoulder as much as possible when putting on the T-shirt. Everything fit reasonably well. He cleared his throat. “Okay.” His throat was dry; the word was hardly audible.

Paula turned to face him with a smile. “Well done, Jack. Let me take a look at your shoulder, and then I'll give you the vaccine.”

Jack sat still while the doctor examined the bite wound on his shoulder. The blood had clotted in the intervening hours, but it was still tender. Paula dabbed the wound with rubbing alcohol from her bag and applied a bandage. “There. Your increased healing rate will take care of the rest,” she announced.

“Does your bag happen to have a bottle of water in it?” Jack rasped, pointing to where she'd left it on the table.

“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “Yes, of course. I'm so sorry.” She passed him a bottle. “Try to drink it slowly if you can. The tranquilizer will make you a little queasy if you go too fast.”

He had already taken off the lid and started gulping down the water, but at the doctor's words he slowed himself down. His stomach did in fact protest slightly – but not enough to hide Jack's sudden awareness of how hungry he was. He drank the rest of the bottle at a measured pace and wondered when he would be given food.

“All right,” said Paula, and opened the case. She pulled out a vial and a syringe.

Jack watched her fill the syringe. She didn't seem like she was lying about its contents, but he couldn't be sure. When she came near to give him the shot, he seized her arm and stared into her startled eyes.

There was a pause, and then a sound from outside the door. A guard's face appeared in the inset window.

“It's all right, Peter,” Paula called, making no move to break Jack's grip but turning calmly toward the door. “We're fine in here.”

Peter looked in at the two of them skeptically, but eventually his face vanished from view. Paula faced Jack again. “I swear,” she said, her voice deliberate and unwavering, “all this is is a vaccine against the S2 virus. Nothing else. Nothing more.”

Jack continued to meet her gaze for several more seconds. Then, satisfied, he nodded and released her arm. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” She administered the injection in his uninjured shoulder, businesslike and seemingly unaffected. But after she put away her supplies, she stopped, glanced at the door, and then said softly, “Look, I know you don't want to be here. I don't really, either. But it's--” Her expression darkened. “It's pretty much impossible to leave, once Hunter decides he wants you in the group. Believe me, I've seen people try.”

Jack glanced at the door in turn before replying. He kept his voice low. “I appreciate that Hunter exerts a lot of control over everyone in his group. But I'm a federal agent, Paula. I have a job I need to get back to. And to do that, I have to get out of here.”

“I'm probably supposed to tell Hunter or his lieutenants if you say things like that,” Paula remarked, frowning.

“Tell them or not, it doesn't matter,” replied Jack shortly. “They'll hear it from me directly if they ask me directly.”

Before either of them could continue this conversation, Jack's stomach rumbled loudly. He hadn't eaten much prior to the raid yesterday (he assumed it was yesterday by now), and he'd certainly expended a lot of energy since those few bites.

Paula gave him a small smile. “You're going to have to get used to a very fast metabolism now, you know – even faster than when you were a teenager.”

Jack just looked at her. “And should I be expecting to eat any time soon, then, or not?”

At that, she stiffened. “We're not monsters, Jack. We wouldn't starve you.”

“And if Hunter didn't think I was worth turning, what then?” Jack pointed to his bandaged shoulder. “What about the other agents who were involved in the attack on your base? Were any of them taken prisoner, too – and if Hunter wasn't interested in them, did you just kill them right away, or are they going to be tortured to death first?” He looked down. He hoped for their sakes that no one else had been taken prisoner. “I've read up on SRN's usual tactics when it comes to non-shifters, Paula. You say you aren't monsters, but I don't believe you.”

“I don't--” Paula sighed, closed her eyes, and shook her head. “I'm not involved in those decisions,” she said, but her expression was troubled. “However, I can assure you that Hunter won't let you starve.”

Scoffing, Jack leaned back against the wall. He wasn't even sure of that much. After all, he remembered Hunter promising that he wasn't going to give Jack an easy time until Jack had proven himself to be a true member of SRN. From all the information that was available on him in CTU's files, and from his own personal experience with the man, Jack knew it wouldn't be easy to fool him into believing he'd broken Jack, either. There was no way in hell he had gotten to be the leader of SRN in LA without developing a keen ability to recognize deceit.

Finally, Paula broke the silence. “Well, I guess we're finished for now.”

“Yeah. I guess we are.” Jack barely glanced at her. “Thanks for the water.”

She sighed again. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw her make as if to say something else, but then she just shrugged, picked up her equipment, and left the room. He heard the lock click shut after her.

A few minutes after he was left alone, Jack decided to see if the tranquilizer had completely worn off. He got up, staggered a little, but recovered quickly; the dizziness wasn't too bad although he was also stiff and sore. Ignoring this and the hunger pangs as best he could, Jack made short work of exploring the room. There wasn't much that he hadn't already learned. The wooden table had no drawers and was sturdily made. The mat was stiff fabric with foam inside. The window was too small, and also barred, and would be out of his reach unless he transformed.

His enhanced sense of smell didn't give him much new information, either. He could tell that there had been several occupants of this room recently before him, and that some of them were shifters and some weren't. He smelled blood traces other than his own, and the faintest hints of meals that had been eaten in here (which did not help him ignore how ravenous he was). In addition, he could hear snatches of conversation from fair distances away, but none of the words he caught were useful.

With a sigh, Jack sat down with his back against the wall. He shut his eyes. By now CTU would have to know the raid had failed, and would know the number of agents missing. They would obviously be trying to locate Jack and the rest. Since Secretary Heller had asked for regular updates, he could assume his boss and his boss's daughter knew about the failure of the mission. However, Jack had no way of knowing how far away he was now from the original site, or how well SRN had cleaned it up to prevent law enforcement from tracking them to wherever they were located now. His phone and the rest of his gear had been taken from him. On top of all of that, now that he was alone, there was nothing to distract him from the reality that he was now a shifter, held captive by the local branch of the most feared and hated group of shifters in all of North America.

Sighing, Jack rubbed his hands across his face. It was true that this was one of the worst situations he had ever found himself in. But there was always a chance he would find a way to free himself – and maybe in the process, find a way to take down at least this branch of SRN.

~


	2. Two

Despite his hunger pangs and his very much less than ideal circumstances, Jack must have fallen into a doze, because he was jerked awake sometime later by the sound of footsteps approaching his cell. Hastily, he stood up and faced the door, scrubbing his hands at his face again to bring himself to full alertness.

A moment later, he caught a scent that his brain identified quickly as that of Hunter – and he was shocked at the immediate adrenaline rush and fear this produced. He stepped back involuntarily and swallowed. His pulse was skyrocketing. _What the hell?!_

Rationally, he had known Hunter would be coming, and he knew whatever was in store for him would not be pleasant. But that didn't explain this extreme of a reaction. Shaking his head, Jack took several deep breaths and did his best to calm himself down as his enemies got closer. By the time the door was unlocked, he felt much more under control.

Hunter stepped into the room, this time followed by two men with what looked to be tranquilizer guns in addition to regular handguns. “Good morning, Jack. How are you feeling today?”

Jack passed right by this question. “Why are your men coming here with tranks again? If I'm going to be brainwashed or tortured, I need to be conscious, don't I?”

At that, Hunter laughed. “Good point,” he agreed. “But no, I'm not planning to have you knocked out again. That was just a precaution, in case you were foolish enough to be lying in wait in your animal form, since I'm not interested in shifting to fight with you at the moment.”

“All right.” Jack willed himself to be calm. Something about being in close proximity to the man who had attacked him, who had turned him, was much harder than it should be. “What, then?”

“First things first. I need you to answer a question, although I think I know the answer already.” Hunter focused his gaze on Jack. “If you're one of those who have been deluded and corrupted enough by your life among non-shifters that you think you're a dirty, subhuman mongrel now that you're one of our kind, I'll leave you a gun with one bullet in it to use on yourself and end your self-loathing. We don't have any use for group members who don't even want to be alive. Do you want to take this option?”

Jack raised his eyebrows. He hadn't imagined that such a choice would be given to him. But Hunter was right; his answer didn't require any consideration. Being a shifter was hardly worse than being a drug addict, nor was it more morally questionable than any number of decisions he had made in the course of his work. Besides, he had to hold onto the chance of getting out of here and taking SRN down. And he had Kim and Audrey to think about, however much this new development would complicate things with them. So even though it would mean giving Hunter something he wanted, he knew what to say: “No.”

Hunter nodded, pleased. “I'll admit I would have been surprised and disappointed to hear you say anything else. I have high hopes for you, Jack.”

Not bothering to hide his disgust, Jack spat, “Let me save you some time. I want to stay alive – but not so I can be one of your shifter thugs. I will not join you. So how about you go ahead and skip the pompous speeches.”

Hunter narrowed his eyes and took a step forward, with his guards just behind him. Jack stood his ground, though he was aware to his chagrin that he had flinched. “The problem with that idea of yours is,” Hunter said in a low, dangerous voice, “you're only alive because I decided you should be. So you will be a member of my group. I'll make sure of it.” After a few more seconds of standing right up in his prisoner's face, Hunter stepped back again, and his demeanor became almost affable. “But before we get into that, let's share a meal together, Jack. I'm sure you're more than ready to eat something.”

Jack stared. He had read CTU's profile of Hunter, of course, and so he knew the man was reputed to be mercurial, even unstable. Now he had firsthand experience to back that up.

“Ben, Wendell,” Hunter was saying, turning to each of his guards, “tell the kitchen I'm on the way, and that I'm bringing a new recruit along as an early breakfast guest. Then you can escort us there.”

The two men nodded. Ben took out a two-way radio and moved a few steps away to contact the kitchen, presumably. Wendell merely stood and waited.

“While that's getting set up,” Hunter said to Jack, “you have a short time where you can feel free to ask me some of the questions I'm sure you've been waiting to ask. No guarantee I'll answer them, of course, but feel free to ask.”

Openness was yet another thing Jack hadn't been expecting from Hunter. He gave a mental shrug and went with it. “All right. I'll start by asking if you took any other prisoners during the raid last night, and if so, how many of them are alive.”

“Yes, we did,” Hunter replied after a moment. “And some of them are still alive – two, other than you. That was out of eight we captured. The rest, we left as warnings for your CTU.”

Knowing exactly what kind of warning Hunter was referring to, Jack's heart sank even as he balled his hands into fists. _Son of a bitch._ Six agents killed after the attack failed – and who knew how many killed during the attack. Two others still imprisoned. “Have you turned the two other remaining prisoners?” He kept his voice level with an effort.

“ _I_ haven't.” Hunter looked almost amused. “I don't turn that many people, Jack. Only a select few.”

_Am I supposed to be flattered?_ Jack thought, suppressing a shudder of revulsion. He decided against saying that out loud. “But were they turned?”

“Not yet, but they will be soon,” said Hunter. He shrugged. “We don't keep non-shifters around the premises. They're worse than useless.”

So these two other surviving agents would be forced into joining SRN as well, Jack reflected. He thought about asking who they were, but decided he would probably find out soon enough. It wasn't as if he would be allowed to spend time with them anyway, he guessed.

The guard with the walkie-talkie, Ben, put it away and came back to Hunter, who nodded to him. “All right, that's it for now,” the shifter leader said. “Let's go.”

Jack followed Hunter out of the room, and he in turn was followed by Wendell and Ben. The hallway was well-lit but largely empty; apparently SRN was not fully awake right now. Jack was careful to pay attention to the route from his room to their destination. He also noted the regular placement of armed guards (which made him wonder as he had before how many of SRN's members were here voluntarily). It took them about five minutes to arrive at the kitchen, and as they got closer, the smell of the food made Jack feel almost faint.

There were quiet sounds of conversation from a room that looked like a cafeteria (maybe ten or fifteen people were inside the room, Jack estimated based on the individual voices he could pick out), but Hunter led them past the cafeteria and through the next door, into a smaller room with just one table set up inside it. He sat down on the far side of the table, where one place setting was laid, and Jack, after eyeing the remaining place settings, sat down across from him, with the guards on either side.

“The food will be out in a few seconds,” Hunter assured Jack. “And please, eat as much as you want, and don't worry that I'm poisoning or drugging you. As you saw on the way here, I don't need to resort to things like that.”

Thinking about the scale of the operation that he'd observed, and knowing that it was just a small fraction of what SRN encompassed, Jack was forced to agree. Of course, Hunter was a psychopath and he could decide to do either of these things anyway … but if Jack wanted to keep the long-term goal of fooling Hunter into believing Jack was now a member of his group, he could start by pretending to trust what Hunter said. He nodded.

The meal was lavish, heavy on the red meat and eggs, and delicious. Jack found it difficult to eat in any kind of moderation. He finished four full plates before he felt sated. The guards and Hunter ate just as much. They were all focused on their food, and there was little to no conversation. Jack, finally sitting back with a sigh, made a mental note for when he got out to suggest to CTU that future attempts to track down terrorist shifter groups should focus more energy on using meat purchases as a means of locating them.

“Good food,” Hunter remarked at last, giving his own satisfied sigh. “I take it you enjoyed it, too, Jack.”

Jack admitted that he had, but then said, “You can't be expecting me to change my mind about joining SRN now, though, right? Because I'll take advantage of a free meal if I have the chance, especially now that my shifter metabolism means I probably can't afford to skip meals, but that's all part of my goal of staying alive and getting out of here.”

“I'd do the same thing,” said Hunter with a nod. “And no, I'm not expecting to win your loyalty with a free meal. My men are men, not dogs.” After a pause, he continued, “What I'm giving you is a small taste of what your life will be like when you do become one of my lieutenants – and there's more to come.”

“Is that so?” Jack said, noncommittal.

“It is.” Hunter smiled. “Ben and Wendell will take you to one of our nicer rooms now. It'll still be locked from the outside, but I think you'll like it more than the room you were just in. I'll give you some more time to rest, and then I'll show you what happens to those who go against me.”

At a nod from their leader, the two guards stood up and waited for Jack to do the same. On the way to his new room, Jack noted more signs of activity in the hallways. Some of the shifters the three of them passed avoided Jack's gaze, and some stared with open curiosity, pity, or even envy. All of them, based on the whispered comments he overheard, were aware that he was one of the new 'recruits'.

They stopped in front of a door some three minutes away from the cafeteria. Wendell unlocked it. “Please go in,” he said to Jack. Jack did so, and the door was quickly closed and locked behind him. He looked around, and laughed once in amazement.

Hunter calling it a “nicer” room was an understatement. It was like a penthouse suite, with only fewer windows and less space differentiating it from the suites of its kind Jack had seen. There was a king-sized bed with a bedside table, a full bath, a wardrobe, and even a plasma TV on the wall opposite the bed. There was also a mini-fridge. Everything seemed clean and new. He did not see any obvious security cameras.

With a shrug, Jack explored the room. He found a towel and one change of clothes in the wardrobe, some shampoo and an electric razor in the bathroom, and two bottles of water in the fridge. Other than that, he found nothing of use or interest. The only possible exception to this was a jeweler's screwdriver he discovered in the back of the drawer of the bedside table. Jack left it for the moment, opting to use the shower that was provided for him.

The shower felt like a luxury, and Jack, knowing this might be his last chance for a while, didn't hurry through it. After he was finished, he shaved and got dressed in the change of clothes that had been left for him. It was only slightly unnerving how perfectly the clothes fit. It was also unnerving, though in a different way, when he noticed that the tattoo that had been on his left arm since his time undercover with the Salazars had faded, so much so that it was nearly invisible. He supposed that was a side effect of his new rapid healing – not an entirely unwelcome one.

He slipped the screwdriver into his back pocket, grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, and sat down on the bed. After a full meal and a shower, he was tempted to get in some sleep while he had the chance, as well. He had no idea how long Hunter would leave him here, but from the shifter leader's description of what was next on Jack's agenda, Jack guessed this leisure time was about to end. On the other hand, considering how little his period of drugged sleep had done to revive his energy levels, if he did fall asleep now, he would be more vulnerable to being surprised by Hunter's guards and taken somewhere without even the faint hope of resisting.

In the end, Jack resolved to take this time to sleep, since there was no way he could be working towards escape right now, anyway. He would hope that his shifter hearing would wake him before he was seized by Ben and Wendell.

~

When he was roused by sounds outside the door, Jack had enough time to wake up completely, stand up, and face the door before it opened. He also at least knew to expect the rush of (maybe instinctual?) fear that hit him when he detected Hunter's presence among those preparing to come into the room. The guards came in first, and immediately took positions on either side of Jack. They did not hold onto his arms, but Jack had the feeling this was not going to last.

Then Hunter was in the doorway. “All right, Jack. Your break is over,” he announced. He glanced at Wendell and Ben. “Cuff him.”

Before Jack could move, Ben had seized both of his arms, and Wendell was snapping cuffs onto his wrists. It happened too fast for Jack to resist. “What the hell is this for?!” he demanded.

“Sorry,” said Hunter, looking genuinely regretful, “but what you're about to see will most likely mean you need to be restrained. Let's go.”

Jack was half-pulled along by the guards, down a flight of stairs to a less well-lit corridor. There were more soldiers in this hallway, and many fewer 'civilian' shifters. They stopped in front of a solid metal door which, when opened, seemed to lead to something like a small dungeon. It was dark, dank, and had about a dozen separate cells divided into six on each side of a narrow walkway. Most of the cells were unoccupied, but that didn't change the fact that the whole place stank of fear. The final two cells were occupied. After a moment Jack recognized the scents of the two other captives from CTU: a young agent named Owen, and Agent Curtis Manning. Owen was still new enough that Jack hadn't had the chance to learn his first name yet – and Curtis was Owen's new partner and immediate superior. Jack swallowed. He could tell Owen had been turned, but Curtis had not. Jack heard Owen gasp after a few seconds. Owen knew Jack was there.

“You know who they are, then?” Hunter asked, observing Jack's reaction. He grinned. “Excellent. I want you to have a front-row seat when we see the next part.”

Since the leader was apparently in a rush now, Jack was dragged out of the room. As the door to the dungeon was shut behind him, Jack heard the guards that were inside moving toward his colleagues' cells. Then there was a scream.

Jack didn't know exactly what Hunter had planned, but he knew it was going to be horrifying. He fought against his guards, but they were expecting this and soon had him wrestled into a chair in another room, facing a large window. Agents Manning and Owen were now across from each other through the window. Both had been badly beaten at some point in the recent past, though Owen's bruises were already starting to heal. The two men were bound at the wrists and gagged.

The door to that room opened, and a man Jack remembered vaguely from the confrontation in the field last night stepped into the room. Owen was clearly scared; Jack wondered if this shifter was the one who had turned the young agent.

The shifter walked over and untied Owen, removing his gag as well and giving him an appraising look-over. “You look like you're feeling better,” he told the younger man, who didn't meet his eyes. “That's good, because Hunter told me he has a job for you. He wants you to attack your partner over there – Manning, I think his name is? - and turn him, or else he dies.” He took out a pistol and with one hand aimed it at Curtis's head. Curtis's eyes widened. “See, we don't have any use for non-shifters here. Not live ones, anyway.”

Jack stared at the scene before him, and then at Hunter, who was watching in obvious anticipation. “You sick bastard,” Jack growled, lunging out of his chair at Hunter with his hands still cuffed behind him. Mixing with his rage was the urge to transform, which gave him an added burst of strength as he rammed his uninjured shoulder into Wendell, the first guard who tried to stop him. The man fell and struck his head against the wall. But before Jack could continue toward Hunter, the changes began. Jack was brought up short as he attempted to force the transformation back under control. His distraction gave Ben as well as Hunter time to knock him to the ground. Without his hands free, Jack had no way of defending himself against the blows to his face and abdomen that were delivered next.

Finally, Hunter stopped, and so did the other guard a second afterward. Jack made a weak attempt to move but gave up, wincing. He was pretty sure he had a number of bruised and cracked ribs, and his face was definitely bleeding from multiple places.

There was a sound of static crackling, and through blurred vision Jack saw Hunter take out his radio. “What is it?”

“Sir, is everything all right?” It was the voice of the SRN shifter in the other room. “It sounded like there was some trouble.”

“There was, Nelson,” Hunter acknowledged, glancing at Jack and still breathing heavily, “but it's under control now. Get on with what you're doing.” He put the radio away.

The guard who was not currently lying on the floor and moaning pulled Jack upright and set him down in the chair again, none too gently. Jack blinked to clear his vision, just in time to see Nelson point his weapon at Curtis again. The safety was off.

“You're really going to let your partner be killed?” Nelson demanded, staring at Owen. “Go on, kid – save him. Turn him.”

Owen shook his head, though his eyes were wide with horror. “I-- I can't do that to him.” His gaze was fixed on Curtis, who was remaining fairly calm, Jack thought.

“Then you might as well be the one pulling the trigger.” Nelson's finger started to tighten.

At the last second, Owen seemed to read something in his partner's eyes, because he said, “Wait!”

Nelson stopped. He looked at Owen again, expectant.

Owen stood up slowly, hanging his head. “All right,” he said, almost in a whisper. “I'll do it. Don't shoot him.”

“Good choice,” said Nelson, smiling and putting the gun in his holster. He took a step backward and gestured to where Curtis waited. “Just pretend I'm not here.”

The next few minutes were painful to watch. Owen stripped off his clothing and then looked around for a moment as if hoping for miraculous intervention of some kind. When none was forthcoming, he sighed and closed his eyes. A few seconds of transformation later, a wolf stood where Owen had been before.

The wolf took a few hesitant steps toward Curtis. When his lack of enthusiasm to follow through became too obvious to ignore, Nelson unholstered his gun. “Do I need to remind you again what's at stake here, Christopher?” he asked sharply.

Owen put his ears back and whined. Then he shook himself, closed the distance remaining, and looked down at Curtis, who stared back without blinking. Then Curtis closed his eyes. Taking this as a signal (which perhaps it was), Owen opened his jaws. It was Jack's turn to shut his eyes then, though he still heard his friend's muffled scream.

Shortly after this, Jack was dragged back to the dungeon, this time to occupy the cell on the left side of the walkway closest to where Curtis had been previously. The guards threw him in face first. Jack saw stars when his head collided with the wall.

“Should he be uncuffed?” the dungeon guard asked. Hunter had not accompanied them on this trip.

“Nah,” said Wendell, the one Jack had taken down earlier. “Let him be totally helpless for a while – might do him some good.” Ben chuckled and agreed.

His cell door clanged shut. Jack groaned and rolled himself stiffly onto his side. This position, while supremely uncomfortable for his cracked ribs, did afford him better access to the jeweler's screwdriver in his back pocket.

It took him the better part of ten minutes to successfully take hold of the small tool, and at least as long to maneuver it in such a way that he could access the cuffs. Just as he was making some progress, he heard the main dungeon door open. He stopped instantly.

It was Owen being led back to his cell. Curtis, Jack guessed, was elsewhere awaiting his first transformation. Owen was shoved into his cell at the end of the row, on the other side from Jack. Jack stayed still and silent, the screwdriver out of sight should anyone happen to look in through the tiny window in his cell door.

One of the pairs of footsteps did in fact stop outside his door. The same man who had said Jack should stay cuffed pounded on the door. “Hey, Bauer,” he called out, “enjoy your new accommodations. You won't be getting any more special treatment.”

Jack said nothing and did not look toward the window. He'd gathered that much.

“And by the way...” Wendell lowered his voice. “You may be Hunter's new favorite, his new _pet_ project,” he emphasized the word derisively, “but that doesn't mean anyone else here has to give a rat's ass about you.” With that, he left the dungeon.

As soon as Jack was sure he was not being watched (he knew there was still the dungeon guard to watch out for, but he was not close by at the moment), he started working on the cuffs again. Within a few more minutes, there was a small click, and the cuffs were off.

Sighing in relief, Jack rolled onto his back and allowed his arms to relax. The stone floor under him was cold and dirty, but this was still an improvement. He carefully slipped the jeweler's screwdriver back into his pocket and closed his eyes.

From Owen's cell, Jack heard a rustling sound. “Agent Bauer?” It was Owen, in a whisper.

Jack sat up stiffly and moved closer to his door. “Yeah.”

“Are-- are you all right, sir?”

“You don't need to 'sir' me, Agent Owen, and yes, I'm fine,” Jack replied. “Are you?”

There was a pause. “I guess so. But Curtis--”

“Will be fine, too,” Jack interrupted. “You did what had to be done. I would have done the same.”

Before Owen could say anything in reply, the dungeon guard yelled, “Hey! No talking!” and pounded on the cell doors at the end of the line.

Jack crept further back into his cell. All of his injuries were stiffening up, although he supposed his shifter healing would take care of most of it in a few hours. Meanwhile, there was nothing to do but wait for whatever else SRN had in mind for its newest captives.

~


	3. Three

Time passed. Jack dozed off and on, noticing dimly that his wounds felt a little better every time he woke. A few times he contemplated trying the lock on the cell door with the screwdriver in his pocket. But even if he succeeded in picking the lock, and getting Owen out as well, he had no idea how many shifters they would come into contact with on the way out of the building. It wasn't likely they'd make it very far. Plus, he wasn't planning to leave Curtis behind.

Hours later, Jack awoke abruptly to the main door opening. It sounded like the guards were hauling in another prisoner. Another moment the accompanying scents revealed it to be Agent Manning, presumably freshly returned to his human form after his initial change. He was clearly exhausted and in pain, by the sound of his breathing and the way the guards had to all but carry him.

The door to the left of Jack's cell opened, and Curtis was deposited inside. Then the guards shut the door and left the room again.

Jack heard Owen moving in his cell. “Curtis,” the younger agent whispered. “Curtis, I'm--”

“Shut up in there!” the dungeon guard shouted. “Don't make me tell you again, boy.”

A few minutes later, food and water were delivered for the prisoners. It was, unsurprisingly, more than a few steps down in quality from the last meal Jack had been offered: this time he was given a cup of tap water and a plate with a single dry ham sandwich. For Curtis's sake, Jack hoped he was getting or had already gotten more food to replenish the energy the other agent must have lost during the ordeal of his first transformation. The sandwich and water had to be the bare minimum necessary to keep a shifter alive, Jack surmised.

Sometime early that afternoon, based on the light coming from the one window in the dungeon ceiling, there were sounds of a commotion outside the main door. Jack sat up and listened. A small part of him was hoping that CTU had managed to track down SRN's location already – but from what he heard, this didn't seem likely. Instead, it sounded like it had something to do with what the latest “hunting party” had brought in, whatever that might mean.

The dungeon guard, who had hurried out the door as soon as he heard the same disturbance, came back in with quick steps. “Big news, G-Men!” he called, walking down toward the prisoners. “Our boys have caught a couple of vampires, and the word is, we're going to have a show.”

Jack's eyes widened. From the files he had read, he knew that SRN's hatred for and record of mistreatment toward non-shifters was surpassed only by their absolutely vicious enmity toward the few remaining victims of the vampire strain of the first supernatural virus. Whenever the shifter group located a vampire, its doom was certain – though based on the bodies that were found, they usually made its death take as long as they could. He could guess what this “show” was going to be like.

A few minutes later, Wendell and Ben, Jack's two favorite shifter soldiers, entered the dungeon, along with three other men. “Hunter wants the prisoners to fight,” one of them announced to the guard, “and he wants you to help us escort them to the arena.”

The dungeon guard laughed out loud. “Oh, this is going to be fun!”

Jack suddenly realized his removal of the handcuffs would have to be noticed, but there was no time to put them back on. He compromised and snapped one of the rings over his left wrist. He'd just have to let the guards wonder how he had managed this.

His usual guards were, in fact, surprised to see him standing up in the cell without his hands already behind his back. But evidently there wasn't time for them to worry about it; they just refastened the other cuff so that his hands were in front this time, and led Jack out of his cell along with Curtis and Owen.

The three of them were given no chance to interact with each other before they were marched down another stairwell to what must have been a back exit, then up one flight of stairs and across a short expanse of grass toward an open-air arena. Plenty of other groups of shifters were heading the same direction. All of them were excited. The closer they got to the other building, the more the air seemed to hum with anticipation. It was hard not to find this atmosphere contagious. Jack felt his heart start to pound.

Jack and the others were led past guards at the entrance into the arena, which was rapidly filling with spectators. The grass at the center of the field was surrounded by high concrete walls. At the opposite end of the rectangle-shaped clear area, there were two figures, securely tied up. When a breeze brought their scent over to Jack and the others from CTU, all three of them froze.

“Yeah, you've never smelled bloodsuckers before, have you?” Ben said, with a hard smile. “That stench sets your teeth on edge, doesn't it?”

Jack wasn't sure he'd describe it exactly like that. It was more like all of his attack instincts were shocked awake and focused on the vampires. From his brief glances at Owen and Curtis, they felt similarly.

The three agents were brought to the edge of the field facing the vampires. Even while distracted as he was, Jack couldn't help a moment of dismay upon seeing that the arena, which had to seat at least three hundred people, was close to capacity. It seemed impossible that such a vast group as SRN could ever be stopped.

Hunter was waiting there at the field's edge. “Welcome, Jack, Curtis, and Christopher,” he said. His voice carried to those seats in the arena nearest them. “I'm giving you, as the newest members of SRN – well, prospective members, anyway – the honor of taking out two of those bloodsucking parasites called vampires. Have any of you ever faced vampires before?”

All three shook their heads. Jack had once seen the dead body of one after CTU had raided a nightclub that was known to be a front for a human trafficking ring in LA, but it hadn't looked much different from the other victims of the raid.

“All right.” Hunter looked at each of them. “Let me give you some quick pointers, then. First of all, though this should be obvious, don't let it reach your throat. If you do, it could be the last mistake you ever make. Second, to kill a vampire, you have to remove its head, or sever its spine in another way. Personally, I favor using my jaws to crush the neck.” This was said with relish, and those members of Hunter's group nearby cheered.

Of course, Jack realized, they would be fighting the vampires using their animal forms. It only made sense. Everything in himself right now was raring to fight, which meant his control was shaky at best.

“There are two vampires, and three of you,” Hunter was pointing out, “which means two of you will have to share.” A few of the spectators laughed at that. “I think, since Curtis hasn't had much of a chance to rest up after his first transformation, we'll let him keep his partner this time. You two can go first.” His gaze passed over Jack for a second, but said nothing to him. His final cold words of instruction were, “If you can't even manage to hold your vampire off between the two of you, we'll decide if we think it's worth it to step in and help before you're dead.”

Curtis and Christopher were uncuffed, and Jack was led off the field to the front row, where Hunter would be sitting. Wendell and Ben were on either side of him as usual. There was a woman sitting on the other side of Hunter, Jack noticed vaguely, watching the proceedings with just as much interest as the shifter leader.

The first fight was not drawn-out, but it was dramatic. Christopher and Curtis lost no time shifting into their wolf forms, while at the other end of the field the ropes were cut off one of the vampires. The other one was hustled off the field under heavy guard.

Jack, gripping the metal bar on the wall edge in front of him, watched fixedly as the two transformed CTU agents began stalking the vampire. For its – his – part, the vampire seemed alert but not overly scared. He moved forward a few paces, always keeping his focus on the advancing wolves.

When the combatants got within striking range, it was the vampire that attacked first. Christopher (Jack thought it was the younger agent) was the target. He dodged first. The vampire struck again, and the wolf yelped but didn't completely lose his footing. Then Curtis launched his own attack, forcing the vampire off. From there, the two wolves worked in tandem to drive the vampire back until he was cornered. There was one cry from their prey, and then the audible sound of bone cracking. The audience cheered.

Jack didn't see what happened to either his colleagues or the dead vampire after that. He was too busy being hustled back down to the field. “Now, Jack,” Hunter said, leaning over to speak to him before he went, “this one is older, stronger, and more experienced. Stay sharp.”

Jack nodded, almost not noticing the moment when his guards unlocked the handcuffs and stepped aside. He undressed and transformed as soon as possible, his concentration locked on the vampire throughout the change.

The creature that had once been human was tall, muscular, and scarred. As soon as it was freed from its bindings, it dropped into a crouch and waited.

Slowly, cautiously, Jack walked toward his quarry. This was not going to be an easy kill, he could tell. The vampire seemed content to wait for Jack to get closer. Its eyes constantly scanned the crowd around them and then quickly returned to focus on Jack.

When Jack reached near enough that one leap would be sufficient, he stopped moving forward. The vampire grinned sardonically. “What's the matter, Fluffy?” he asked, in a low voice that made the hair on the back of Jack's neck rise. “You scared of me?”

In response, Jack bared his teeth and snarled. The vampire bared his own fangs then, which was definitely disturbing.

The next instant, the vampire sprang at Jack, but danced away before Jack could make contact. He did it again, from a different angle, and this time Jack landed a blow on his arm. The vampire hissed and drew back. “Nice reflexes,” he granted, glaring.

Jack could tell the vampire was expecting him to follow up the blow with a forward attack of his own. But instead, Jack waited a moment.

“What? Was that it?” The vampire raised a derisive eyebrow. “Is that all--”

That was when Jack pounced, reaching to rake his claws across the vampire's face. But the creature was only startled for a second, and he dodged, using his own abnormally long and claw-like nails to puncture Jack's paw.

Screaming in rage, Jack withdrew his paw and lashed out with the other, knocking the vampire back a yard. Before he could recover, Jack bounded forward and drove him off his feet. The vampire reacted in a flash, kicking Jack in the chest and neck and rolling out from under him. Then he leaped onto Jack's back, digging painfully in through fur and skin with his nails.

Jack had a moment of panic when he turned his head and couldn't reach or dislodge his attacker. But then he rolled onto his back, crushing the vampire under as much of his weight as possible. He stayed in that position for several seconds. With a desperate gasp, the vampire released his grip, pushed against Jack's side to propel himself out, and tried to reach for Jack's throat. But he must have been dazed, because his movements had slowed just a fraction. Jack batted away his hands easily, and then went in for the kill.

When Jack's jaws closed around the creature's throat, it attempted the same thing Jack had against Hunter at first – it went for Jack's eyes. Despite the piercing pain of the sharp nails in and around his eyes, Jack shut them and held on, tightening his grip. He shook the vampire back and forth, ignoring the strain of its weight, and finally the spine cracked. The vampire ceased struggling.

After waiting a few moments to make sure it was dead, Jack slowly relaxed the vise grip of his jaws. Only then did he notice the roars and cheers of the crowd, many of whom were jumping over the center wall to stream toward him. He took a step back from the vampire's corpse, spitting out the foul-tasting blood, and tried to pull himself back to the here and now and away from the brutal, ruthless act he had just committed. Though his cougar self was pleased, even exultant at the successful dispatch of his opponent, Jack felt only disgust at himself for being manipulated into this position. Vampires were dangerous, mentally unsound predators, but they needed to be contained, not hunted down like vermin.

“Congratulations, Jack!” Hunter called out, running up to him as he was surrounded by jubilant SRN shifters. “What a fight! Now, everyone – give him a little room to breathe, would you?”

Jack shrank back under the pats on the back and shouted praise around him. He was tempted to lash out at those surrounding him, but he knew that would not end well.

“All right, all right!” yelled Hunter at last, and everyone quieted at least a few degrees. “That's it for the evening. Let's get back to base. We've still got work to do, after all – and Jack has injuries that need looking at.”

Finally, everyone but Hunter, the woman who had been seated next to him, and his guards started to disperse. Jack was mentally and physically drained, but he had thought about the opportunity for escape afforded by being in an outdoor facility. However, the guards were once again armed with tranquilizer guns. Wendell especially looked like he was hoping for a reason to use the gun on Jack. Sighing, Jack allowed himself to be led off the field. The pain of his various injuries was starting to make itself known. His eyes watered

“So what did you think of the fight, Ginny?” Hunter asked the beautiful brunette woman by his side.

The woman gave Jack an appraising glance. “It was very exciting,” she replied, her voice carrying the hint of a French accent. “But I wanted it to last longer.”

Hunter laughed. “I understand. But we wouldn't want it to have ended any other way, would we?”

“Definitely not!” Ginny said. She gave her own rich laugh. “It was a pleasure to watch your Jack crush the vile creature's spine.”

Jack cringed, wishing he could turn and wipe the smirk off both of their faces. But he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knocking him out again, either. So he continued walking back to his prison, steps slow enough that the guards occasionally felt they needed to prod him along with the butt of their weapons.

After what seemed like an eternity, Jack was finally alone in his cell. Some shifter had been tasked with carrying his clothes back for him, for which Jack was simultaneously grateful and mortified when the clothes were tossed in after him. Before he and his girlfriend left, Hunter congratulated Jack again, and told him to rest up for tomorrow.

Taking a deep breath, Jack waited to be sure everyone had left. Then he shifted back to his human form, tasted the vampire's blood that was still in his mouth, and immediately threw up what little was in his stomach in the corner of his cell. Shuddering, he coughed, wiped his mouth with his hand, and put on his clothes. There was still a faint metallic taste in his mouth, but at least it had lessened. His eyes stung, partially from the acid stench now filling the cell and partially from the clawed hands of the vampire. There were small puncture wounds on the back of his right hand as well, and scratches on his shoulders.

A minute later, there was a knock on the main dungeon door, and the guard admitted Paula. She was carrying a med kit. Her expression was carefully neutral as she was let into Jack's cell. “Jack,” she greeted him. “How are you feeling?”

Jack didn't answer, nor did he stand, but he did turn to allow the doctor to see his face.

“Hmm,” Paula murmured. She bent down and took a small flashlight out of the kit, shining it at Jack's eyes. “Sorry,” she said absently as he flinched and blinked. “The light is so damn low in here, even for shifters.”

She had Jack rinse his eyes with saline drops, after which she handed him a cotton square to dry off the residue. “They look fine, for the most part,” she told him. “I really don't think there will be any long-term damage.”

Jack nodded, relieved but not surprised since his vision hadn't seemed too badly affected. His hand was disinfected with rubbing alcohol, as were the scratches on his shoulders, and then Paula was ready to leave.

Jack stopped her at the cell door by breaking his silence. “Were you watching tonight?”

“What?” She turned to look at him.

“In the arena – were you watching?”

Paula hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. I needed to be there in case of serious injury.”

Jack's voice grew hard as he asked, “And did you enjoy the show, Doctor?”

She didn't answer, but her hands shook as she turned and left the cell.

There was relative silence in the dungeon after that. Jack could hear quiet, even breathing from Agent Owen, though Curtis sounded like he was awake and pacing. The dungeon guard, evidently bored, was at the other end of the room doing something with a pen and paper.

Suddenly, Jack heard a familiar voice out of nowhere. _Jack! Jack, is that you? It's Michelle. I'm in LA, looking for you._

Starting to his feet, Jack barely kept back a surprised cry. He looked around the room wildly. It couldn't have been. There was no way...

_Yeah, I know this doesn't make a lot of sense. A lot's changed, but it really is me,_ Michelle insisted. It sounded like his friend and colleague's voice, and yet it was not quite the same as he remembered it. Then it dawned on him – the one way she could be communicating with him. He almost laughed. Michelle was a telepath now, and he was a shifter. _Seems like things have changed for you, too, _Michelle continued her thought.__

_Yes,_ Jack thought in acknowledgment, trying to make it as clear as possible. _Michelle, where are you right now?_

She and presumably some other CTU agents were at the location of the failed raid. They had tried to track SRN's movements from there, but had not found much before calling Michelle in to help. She wanted to know about Agent Manning and Agent Owen, and Jack quickly passed along the information that they were alive and captured as well. He was less able to answer her about where they all were, since he had been unconscious when they were moved to this base. _But it's a large, multi-story building, big enough to house at least three hundred, and several decades old,_ he told her. _There's an empty field on one side, and an arena-like structure on another._

Michelle took a moment to relay this information to those nearby. Then she asked if there was anything else Jack could pass on that might be useful. He considered for a moment, and recalled the possibility of tracking SRN by the large amounts of food and especially meat they would need delivered regularly.

Michelle thanked him and then said, _Jack, I'm sorry, I can't get anything more than a direction from you. Although you must not be too far – I don't think I have that much range._

Jack smiled and shook his head. _No apology necessary, Michelle. Just keep me posted when you find anything more._

She promised to do so, and then there was silence in his head for a few minutes. He started to pace. This was most definitely an unexpected but welcome development. He wished he dared tell Curtis and Christopher that rescue was coming, but there was no feasible way to do that.

Michelle contacted him again to tell him that she would join up with the strike team preparing to take down SRN. _I'll let you know once we've narrowed down a possible location,_ she said.

_Okay,_ said Jack. _How many agents are on this strike team? Because when I told you there are close to three hundred shifters here, I don't mean that all of them are armed and ready to fight back. A significant portion of them are basically kidnap victims held here against their will._

Sounding faintly surprised at this revelation, Michelle wanted to know what percentage they could expect not to fight a takeover. Jack had much less direct experience to base an estimate on than he would have liked, but he felt reasonably confident in telling her that up to half of the 'civilian' shifters would at least not fight back, even if they didn't start fighting against their SRN oppressors. He did remember to ask Michelle to bring along extra blankets and clothing for any shifter who might need it after the takedown was over.

After she passed this on, Michelle again promised to keep him updated and then was quiet again for a while. Jack made himself stop pacing, since it was completely pointless and would only serve to waste energy. On that note, he hoped the prisoners would be delivered their entirely inadequate dinner soon.

Shortly thereafter, the door to the dungeon opened, but there was no accompanying scent of food. Instead, there was the sound of angry, stomping footsteps that stopped at Jack's door. It was Wendell, who could barely wait for the dungeon guard to unlock the door in his impatience.

He flung the door open. Jack stood up calmly. “Is there something wrong?”

Wendell held out a jeweler's screwdriver for Jack to see. “What is this?!”

Jack arched an eyebrow. “I think it's a screwdriver,” he said. “But I can take a closer look if you want.”

The shifter guard's face reddened and he took a step forward, gripping the screwdriver in his clenched fist. “I mean,” he said through gritted teeth, “where did you get it? We found it where it fell out of your pocket in the arena.”

“I found it in that luxury room you put me in earlier,” Jack answered, deciding he might as well go with the truth. “By the way, I have to say you haven't impressed me with your ability to sweep a room in preparation for keeping a hostile prisoner locked up there.”

At that, Wendell's control snapped. He launched himself at Jack and slammed him into the side wall of the cell. Jack reacted just in time to keep his head from whipping back into the concrete with all its force.

“You smug little piece of shit,” Wendell growled. “I ought to teach you a lesson about who's in charge here.”

Jack held the other man's arm inches away from where he was trying to pin it against Jack's throat. “Oh, I know who's in charge,” he grunted, “and it's not you.”

Wendell growled again, and Jack watched his eyes become canine and golden for a second. Then he pushed Jack backward into the wall again, stepping back and shaking his head.

“Hey, man, is everything all right in there?” came the dungeon guard's voice.

“It's fine,” said Wendell, his own voice strained. He was breathing heavily, obviously on the edge of losing control.

“Come on, Wendell,” Jack goaded in an undertone. “Don't back off now. I'm not cuffed this time, and Hunter and Ben aren't here to see me take you down – again.”

With a forced laugh, Wendell raised his head and shot back, “Yeah, that's right. Hunter isn't here. That means there's no one to protect his special new pet. Maybe you should worry about that!”

“Well, it seems to me,” said Jack, readying himself as he delivered his final shot, “if anyone here is serving as both Hunter's guard dog and lapdog, it's you, not me. How does he reward you for that?”

This was too much for Wendell. He roared, half-shifted, and lunged at Jack, who was already starting to shift in preparation. Jack heard a panicked oath from outside the cell (probably the guard), and then he had to concentrate all of his energy on the wolf that was now attempting to tear out his throat.

It was at this very inopportune moment that Michelle reached out to him again. _Jack, we've got a credible location for you, and the strike team is on our way now._

Jack blinked and shook his head, nearly giving Wendell the chance he needed to sink his fangs into him. Snarling, Jack threw the smaller animal off. But Wendell was relentless, crazed almost.

_Jack, can you hear me? We're on our way, about twenty minutes out. I'll update you again when the location is confirmed._

_I-- I hear you, but--_ Distracted, Jack rolled aside in the confined space just in time to avoid the wolf again. He hoped that was enough confirmation for Michelle for the time being. In any case, she didn't speak again.

Just as Jack managed to stun Wendell with a swipe of his paw and had sprung at him, the main dungeon door flew open, crashing into the wall. “What the hell is going on in here?!” Hunter's voice was loud and angry enough to separate the two combatants. Wendell, cringing, backed down at once. Jack felt no such desire to halt; his cougar instincts were more than willing to go in for the kill, and his human side had already calculated the benefits if he succeeded in eliminating even one of Hunter's top lieutenants right before the strike team arrived. Besides, if he didn't kill Wendell now, Wendell would be an even greater danger to him during the coming fight. But he would have to act quickly.

Before Hunter could get to the cell, Jack took advantage of his opponent's distraction to pounce on the wolf. One swift, strong bite to the back of the neck later, Wendell was dead.

The cell door opened. Jack stepped back slowly but made himself meet Hunter's eye without flinching. It was easier while he was in cougar form.

Hunter looked away from Jack's eyes to take in the rest of the scene. “Well.” He turned to Ben who was behind him in the doorway. “Check to see if he's dead. Don't worry – Jack isn't going to attack either of us while we're armed.” They were, in fact, both carrying guns.

Ben did not seem overly happy to be given this order, but he did as he was told. Jack watched the man silently, aware that Wendell's blood was no doubt visible on his face. As Ben was reaching to touch the wolf's throat, the body began to shift and blur. Ben backed up immediately as it resumed human form. The bloody wounds at the back of the neck were even more visible now. “He's dead all right.”

Hunter nodded, his face impassive. The dungeon guard cleared his throat. “Wendell stormed in here a few minutes ago, yelling at the prisoner about something and generally acting like he was just looking for a reason to go off,” he said. “I tried to get him to cool down, but he wouldn't listen.” He nodded at Jack. “This one was egging him on, too.”

“I see.” A tense silence fell for a few seconds. Then the shifter leader finally said, “All right. Ben, Mike, you carry the body out of here to the graveyard. I'll have a few words with Jack before I come along.”

Again, neither of the two men seemed pleased at this instruction, but they didn't disobey. Jack didn't watch the body as it was removed – though he did notice, and he thought Hunter did not, that the jeweler's screwdriver had at some point during the fight ended up against the wall where Wendell had fallen.

“Now,” said Hunter, as soon as the two men were gone, putting a hand on the holster of his gun, “I can't blame you for getting rid of Wendell, Jack. He hated you, and was jealous of you, and from what Mike said and what I've seen, he was just looking for a reason to try to kill you himself. Kill or be killed, that's simple enough to understand. But I can't leave you unpunished, either.”

Jack waited. He couldn't predict exactly what kind of punishment this act would incur, but he was almost sure it would not require he be put to death. Almost.

Just then, there was a burst of static from Hunter's walkie-talkie. He gave Jack a hard look, left the cell, shut the door, and answered it. “What is it now?”

Jack took the opportunity (while listening as Hunter discussed a conflict that had arisen between two shifters elsewhere in the building) to shift back into his human form. There weren't a lot of clothes left that hadn't been destroyed, but at least his jeans were still wearable. Once again, the taste of blood in his mouth made him retch, but there was nothing in his stomach this time. He used a fragment of cloth from one of the shredded shirts to clean his face as best as he could. Since some of the blood was already dried, he guessed this hadn't made a great deal of difference. Water would be nice, he thought – to drink, to rinse out his mouth, and to clean himself off.

The cell door opened again. Hunter looked annoyed, though not at Jack. “Well, I guess you're lucky for the moment, Jack,” he said. “I can't waste time coming up with a punishment now, since I have other business to take care of. But I promise you, this is just a delay.”

Jack just nodded. Unfortunately for Hunter, he wasn't planning on being here later to receive whatever discipline the shifter leader decided on.

As soon as Hunter was out of the room, Jack picked up the screwdriver and went to the door. “Curtis, Christopher, are you all right?” he asked, his voice hoarse. The dungeon guard, Mike, had not returned yet. This was their chance.

“Jack!” Curtis said, sounding startled and pleased. “I'm all right. I couldn't tell – I thought that Wendell might have seriously injured you.”

“No, I'm fine,” said Jack. He started working on the lock. “Christopher?”

“Yeah, I'm fine, too,” the younger agent replied. He paused. “What's going on? Do you still have the screwdriver that guard was yelling at you about?”

Quickly, Jack confirmed Christopher's guess, and told them about the strike team that was on the way. Both of them were surprised at the news of Michelle's telepathic abilities, but very willing to accept it especially if it meant she could help CTU locate them.

As soon as the lock on his cell door opened, Jack was out and working on the other two agents' doors, since Mike had taken the keys with him when he left. He got Christopher's door open with a little bit of trial and error. Curtis's door lock was just getting close to open when they all heard the sound of the dungeon guard returning.

“Okay, Curtis,” whispered Jack urgently, “we'll go back to our cells so we can take the guard by surprise. Then we'll get you out, all right?”

“All right,” said Curtis. “Go.”

Jack and Christopher hastened back to their cells just as the main door opened.

“I'm not doing that ever again,” Mike the guard was muttering to himself. “Tells me to pick up the dead guy like he was dirty laundry or something – and blood and all manner of disgusting shit all over him...”

Mike continued ranting under his breath, utterly ignoring the occupied end of the dungeon from what it sounded like. Very quietly and carefully, Jack pushed his cell door open, as Christopher did the same across from him. Their eyes met when their doors were both finally open. Jack silently counted down with his fingers. _3... 2... 1..._

In unison they burst out of their cells toward the unsuspecting guard. Mike's face had time to register shock as they came at him. He fumbled for both his gun and his walkie at the same time. Jack knocked the latter item out of his hand, drawing the man's attention so that Christopher could pull away his gun. The young agent quickly used it to knock the guard unconscious. Then the two men dragged his body into the nearest cell, relieving him of his keys and locking the cell door after him. Jack had also taken the guard's outer shirt to replace his which had been destroyed.

Curtis was freed seconds later. His relieved smile faded when he saw Jack face-to-face. “Damn. You look like hell, Jack,” he said.

Jack snorted. “Yeah, thanks, Curtis, but we've got bigger problems to deal with right now.” He cleared his parched throat futilely. “Like coming up with a plan for when Michelle and the strike team get here.”

“Hold on a second,” Christopher said, turning to hurry to the small table at the front of the dungeon room. He came back with a metal water bottle. “It's the guard's, but it still has some left.”

Jack took it. “Thanks,” he said with a grateful nod. The water was warm, but he drank half of the remaining liquid in one swallow. Then, since he thought it had probably been as long since they had had anything to drink, he offered it to the others, but they refused. “Hunter had a guard give us water after the vampire fight,” Christopher told him.

“Good.” Jack gulped down the rest, saving only a few drops to try to clean off some of his face. “Now, I have no idea how long we have before Hunter or someone else comes looking for us here. And Michelle told me the strike team was about twenty minutes out, maybe ten minutes ago.”

“There aren't any weapons in here other than that one, unfortunately,” Curtis said, pointing to the handgun Christopher had at his waist, from Mike. He gave a grim smile. “But I suppose we don't all have to use weapons in a fight.”

“That's true,” said Jack, “but only until the strike team gets here. We need to stay in human form at that point so that no one has a chance to get confused about who's who.”

“Do we have a way of telling Michelle where we are?” Christopher asked. He shrugged and added, “I'm assuming we're not launching an assault from the dungeon here.”

Curtis and Jack agreed. “Michelle will contact me again when she has confirmed our location,” Jack told them. “When she does, I'll try to pass on where we are specifically.”

There was nothing else to do for the moment but position themselves optimally such that they could see the main door, while hopefully still remain hidden from anyone glancing inside.

A few minutes later, Jack got another message from Michelle. They had confirmed the location of SRN's base, and were moving in to surround it with a team including CTU, SWAT and LAPD, and FBI.

_Hold off on announcing your presence in any way until you absolutely have to. Especially not telepathically,_ Jack advised her. _As far as I can tell, Hunter hasn't even considered telepaths at all, much less that he might be facing one, and we don't want to lose the element of surprise._

Sounding pleased, Michelle acknowledged this, and was silent for a few seconds as she relayed this to the team. She then added that she was planning to broadcast to everyone in the building once the attack started, to give anyone who wanted to take it a chance to surrender.

That sounded like an excellent idea. Jack expressed his approval, and then asked her if they had remembered to bring clothes and blankets.

_We did,_ she said. _And you think it might be as many as fifty percent who could switch to our side?_

Jack frowned. He still didn't feel confident in his ability to estimate this, having had so little direct contact with SRN shifters who didn't work right under Hunter. _I'm not sure,_ he said at last. _It could be lower, but counting those who would surrender but not fight on our side, it could be that high._ He admitted, _None of us have had much chance to interact with anyone who wasn't a guard or a soldier._

_I understand,_ Michelle said. _We'll be prepared in case the numbers aren't as good as we hope._ Then she paused, and her mental tone changed. _We're almost there, Jack, so I have to focus on the raid. See you in a few minutes._

_I'll be ready. Curtis and Christopher will be, too,_ he said. He gave her as quick and concise of a description of where they would be waiting (unless something changed) as he could, and then let her go. Then he summarized his mental conversation to his companions, who had of course not been privy to it while it was happening.

When Michelle's telepathic broadcast started some minutes later, all three of them flinched in startlement at first, but then listened in silence. Once she was done, Jack met the eyes of Curtis and Christopher. They looked tense but ready for whatever was about to happen.

Within minutes, sounds of gunfire, running, and human and animal cries could be heard from inside the building. The three agents waited. The sounds started to get louder. To Jack's ears, it sounded like there were four, maybe five shifters heading this direction, pursued by at least as many strike team members. The shifters hurried past the dungeon without stopping, but two of the strike team members halted. Jack, Christopher, and Curtis quickly came out of hiding and stood in full view of the window.

The door opened.


	4. Four

“So, what's the situation?” Michelle asked, as calmly as she could. She had known there would be tension, but she hadn't expected everything she was picking up from Tony without even trying. He was seriously testing her resolve not to think about their relationship, to be distant at best with him. Even the fact that she knew he wasn't doing it intentionally wasn't helping. There was a very good chance she wasn't going to be able to handle it if he kept it up like this. Every time he looked at her with those eyes, it was difficult to keep track of what she was supposed to be doing.

“Jack is missing, presumed captured in the raid that was supposed to take down the SRN group in LA,” Chloe told her shortly. “I already told you over the phone, plus you're a telepath now so you can figure it out yourself.”

“Thanks, Chloe, I can take it from here,” Tony said. He paused when Chloe stood by, looking uncertain. “Is there something else?”

“Look, I know you two probably have some kind of ex-husband-and-wife things to deal with, or whatever, but meanwhile Jack's probably being tortured, and Curtis and the other agents, too.”

“What's your point, Chloe?” Tony sighed, exchanging a quick glance with Michelle before carefully looking away again.

“Nothing. I just hope it doesn't have to be too awkward for you to work together. At least until after we find them,” she said.

Michelle sighed as well. As usual, Chloe had a knack for shining a spotlight on exactly the thing everyone would rather not even think about. “We'll do our best, Chloe. We're focused on finding our agents,” she said, “so right now I'm asking for all the details you have. It would be rude, not to mention inefficient, for me to find out by reading your mind. You can tell me everything in order of importance.”

Chloe nodded. “Fine. We know there's been SRN activity somewhere in this area,” she told her, pointing to her screen that showed one of LA's seedier warehouse districts. “We thought it was their base, but after the team went missing, we sent in more people to do a sweep and there's no sign of a base. All we found were some empty shipping containers and six of the team members, dead.”

Michelle held back a wince at the quick flash she got of the state the bodies had been in. “And it's been almost 72 hours since the team went missing?” It didn't take her too long to get up to speed, although it was not without a noticeable feeling of suspicion from some of the agents involved. She tried not to dig – it didn't seem like it would be all that useful to know exactly what the feeling stemmed from.

It was quickly decided that she should take a few of the members of the team that had originally done the sweep back to the site, and see if her abilities could bring anything new to the search. Meanwhile, Chloe and the other analysts would continue running their own searches via satellite, traffic cam, and everything else they could think of. Tony would continue to run point from CTU. They all knew the situation was grim at this point, with next to no leads this long afterward, but they weren't going to give up yet. Michelle didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed that she might not be spending all that much time in the same space as Tony, after all. She shook herself out of it. Of course it was better. It would be easier to concentrate now.

As they got close, Michelle started to cast out her awareness in a wide net. Though she hadn't ever encountered him after becoming a telepath, she was confident that she would recognize Jack's mind if she happened across it. “Which direction do we think SRN's men would have gone after the raid?” she asked. The car had pulled up beside the warehouse where the CTU agents' bodies had been found.

“I'll show you,” said the lead agent, a man named Hearst. They got out. “Our best estimate is that the actual base must be further toward the edge of the city, to the south.” He gestured in the appropriate direction. “What little evidence we recovered from the crime scene supported the theory of a large number of people moving that direction at around the time of the raid.”

“Okay,” Michelle said. She moved slowly forward, still looking for Jack. She had gotten more used to this kind of search in the several months she'd been learning to use it, but it was still disorienting to add the new sense to her already active mind.

“Anything?” Hearst asked, after a pause. He sounded uncertain, but not uneasy.

“Nothing relevant,” Michelle said. As far as she could tell, there was no sign of Jack nearby. After a moment, she paused and took out her phone. “I'm going to make a quick call to LAPD, though – there's a mugging going on two blocks to the east of here.” She felt Hearst's surprise and faint admiration as she made the call. That done, she walked farther to the south and kept trying. Just as the other members of the team were starting to wonder how best to broach the subject of calling it a night, she let out a triumphant cry. “There!” _Jack! Jack, is that you?_ she called mentally.

“Ms. Dessler, you found him?” Hearst was asking.

She spared the time to say out loud, “I think so,” before continuing to try to communicate with Jack. _Jack, it's Michelle. I'm in LA, looking for you._ She felt his incredulity. _Yeah, I know it doesn't make sense. A lot's changed, but it is really me. Seems like things have changed for you, too._ He acknowledged this, and she had to hold back a gasp at the flash of his memories of what had been happening to him. But true to form, Jack moved straight to asking where she was. “It is him,” she confirmed out loud to the still waiting Hearst. “Tell Tony and Chloe. I'm going to figure out where he is.” _Jack, we're where your raid went down. Where are you? Are the other agents there, too?_

“Tony says they have a strike team ready to go as soon as you get the location pinpointed,” Hearst said.

“Good,” Michelle said, distracted. Jack didn't know exactly where he and the others were, since he had been unconscious when he was brought there and hadn't seen very much of the exterior of the complex. It was a very large building, though, capable of housing at least three hundred shifters. It was also bordered by a large empty field on one side and something that looked like an arena next door as well. Michelle passed this on as soon as she heard it. “Anything else you can tell me?” she asked, both vocally and mentally. After a pause, she spoke again. “Jack suggests we look for a building fitting that description that gets a significant meat delivery, probably weekly or even more frequently. Apparently shifters eat a lot of meat.” _Jack, I'm sorry, I can't get anything more than a direction from you. Although you must not be too far – I don't think I have that much range._ He told her that her apology wasn't necessary, and to keep him posted.

Michelle quickly passed on the parameters she had determined, vague as they were, to the search Chloe was running. “I think that's all we're going to get here,” she finished. “Is it enough for a location?”

“Not yet,” came Chloe's response.

“We'll join up with the strike team while you're finishing your calculations, then,” Michelle said. “I'll keep in contact with Jack and with you.”

“Copy that,” Tony told her. “I'll tell the strike team to pick you up.”

_Jack,_ Michelle said. _I'm joining up with the strike team that's prepping to take down SRN. I'll let you know once we've narrowed down a possible location._

It took about ten minutes for Chloe's analysis to come through with a probable location. The strike team, Michelle at the head, immediately moved out. But when Michelle went to inform Jack, it seemed oddly difficult for her to touch his mind, though she found him again without any trouble. He also didn't reply, and she sensed he was very focused on something else – and angry about whatever it was. Still, she tried one more time. _Jack, can you hear me? We're on our way, about twenty minutes out. I'll update you again when the location is confirmed._

At this, she finally got something from him, though it sounded very distracted. “Jack must be in the middle of something,” she told Hearst and the others. “But I think he knows we're coming.” She kept her mind alert and lightly touching his, both in case Jack needed to tell her something and to narrow down the location.

A mile away from their destination, Michelle suddenly had to pull back in her telepathic scan. Into her comm, she announced, “That has to be it. Tony, I'm confirming our location is correct. There are a lot of people in that building – and one of them is definitely Jack.” She shook her head to ease the pressure that had built up at the sudden influx of minds touching hers. _Jack, we're almost there. We've got the building on satellite, too, and we'll have you surrounded. We've got LAPD, SWAT, and FBI with us._

_Hold off on announcing your presence in any way until you absolutely have to,_ Jack told her. _Especially not telepathically. As far as I can tell, Hunter hasn't even considered telepaths at all, much less that he might be facing one, and we don't want to lose the element of surprise._

_Copy that,_ Michelle said, with a hint of a smile. She relayed Jack's instructions to the team, and to Tony. _But once we attack, I'm going to do a wide broadcast to everyone in the building, so those who are there against their will know this is a rescue mission, and we won't hurt them if they surrender._

_Good,_ Jack said. _Did you bring blankets and clothes, like I asked?_

_We did,_ Michelle confirmed. _How many do you estimate might switch to our side?_

_I'm not sure,_ Jack admitted. _It might be as high as fifty percent, counting those who would surrender but not fight on our side._

Michelle relayed this, as well. _Thanks. We're almost there, so I have to focus on the raid. See you in a few minutes._

_I'll be ready,_ he said. _Curtis and Christopher will be, too. He told her approximately where in the building the dungeon they were currently in was, and then let her sign off._

Once they got the go-ahead from everyone, the raid began. Michelle's team went in first by decision, so she could point out any hidden guards or other dangers satellite might not reveal in time. They went in as silently as possible, keeping to the shadows. “Guards, about two and ten o'clock,” Michelle whispered into her radio, just as Chloe's voice came over the line informing them of the same thing that she'd seen on infrared. They were taken out with two precise silenced shots.

Michelle tried not to let everyone else's tension add to her own as they proceeded. Shortly, however, the number of guards going missing apparently became too much to ignore, and more armed men started to come out of the building. Exterior lights began to be snapped on and Michelle decided it was time to forgo any idea of hiding. She targeted everyone in the area (including all law enforcement) and made the mental equivalent of a shout. _To all those currently in range of this broadcast, may I have your attention. This building, the headquarters of Shifter Rights Now, has been completely surrounded by a joint strike team task force of the Counter-Terrorism Unit, FBI, SWAT, and LAPD. There is no way out. If you resist, you will be shot down without hesitation. If you surrender, you will be taken into custody. You have our promise that you will be treated fairly. And if you have been held here against your will, as we know is the case for many of you, we will guarantee your safe exit from SRN. We'll even help you find relatives or connect with shifter support networks._ She paused. _We are entering the premises now. If you choose to surrender, please have your hands raised, get on your knees, and don't move. At that point, we may also allow you to take up arms against those who are holding you here, if you so wish._ She paused again. _I am reminding you one more time: this entire building is surrounded, and our strike has already begun. That's all._

She cleared her throat out of habit, though she hadn't actually spoken a word, then focused as even more shifters started to stream outside. Immediately the sound of gunfire and shouting began all around. There was also the chilling sound of growls and cries from those who had opted to attack in animal form. SWAT had taken the lead once the raid began in earnest, and under their cover Michelle retreated back to the perimeter where she would monitor the process.

“Ma'am,” she heard over the radio. “This is Winters. We've got a few shifters here who say they're surrendering, and they want to fight back against SRN. Would you mind checking?” It was from the leader of a team on the opposite side of the compound.

She found Winters' mind easily enough and moved from there to the three shifters the team had in custody. A quick scan of the woman and two men showed they weren't lying. “Go ahead and arm them,” Michelle replied into her mic. “They're allies.”

Michelle continued to get similar requests as the raid went on. This had been her suggestion for how they could afford to trust those SRN recruits wanting to join their side. It meant, of course, that she was not available to physically participate in the raid when she otherwise would have. However, she figured it was worth it for the advantage it gave the law enforcement team.

In fact, the element of surprise plus the additional support their team got from SRN recruits who genuinely wanted to help take them down meant the SRN true believers didn't have much of a chance. Of course it still wasn't easy, nor was it without losses on the side of the combined strike team. But by the time Michelle actually saw Jack, the raid was nearly over.

Her lie detector duties over, she left the van and took a few agents to join in the cleanup efforts. She stopped short when she saw Jack, supporting an injured agent with the help of another man. He acted uninjured, but the smudges near his mouth looked suspiciously like dried blood. Her skin prickled uneasily. Still, she shook it off and said, “Jack! Over here!”

His gaze found hers. Without needing to read his mind, she saw both relief and shame flit over his expression, and then it was back to business. He made sure the injured man was secure on the stretcher as soon as it arrived. Then he turned to her again. “Michelle. It's good to see you.”

She smiled. “You, too.”

“Oh, Michelle Dessler, this is Curtis Manning,” Jack said, gesturing to the man standing next to him.

Manning gave her a nod. “Thanks for the rescue, ma'am.”

She nodded in return. “Are you two all right?”

“Fine,” Jack said. “Agent Owen took a bullet to the shoulder. It was a through-and-through, so he'll be all right.”

“Good,” Michelle said. She could tell he wasn't actually emotionally fine, but she wasn't going to push it right now. “You should probably both get checked out by medical, just in case.”

“I don't want to take attention away from anyone with serious injuries,” Jack replied.

“Medical, do we have anyone not occupied?” Michelle asked over the radio. She got an affirmative response, raised her eyebrows at Jack, and went on, “I have Agents Jack Bauer and Curtis Manning here. They've been prisoners of SRN and I'd like them checked out.”

Jack and Curtis submitted willingly enough. She was relieved that they did seem to be physically in decent shape, although exhausted, suffering from scrapes and bruises, and not adequately hydrated. She had to step away after that, to have a phone conversation with some higher-ups about the next stage of the operation. They were anxious to be sure that all the leaders of this branch of SRN were accounted for.


	5. Five

Sitting on the back edge of an ambulance, Jack watched as the various branches of law enforcement and agencies coordinated the cleanup efforts. An EMT had already seen to Jack's superficial injuries, given him an energy bar, and given him a bottle of rehydration fluid to drink slowly.

Curtis had been given similar treatment (Christopher had of course been taken to the hospital to get his gunshot wound treated right away). The shifters who had surrendered or had fought against SRN were being dealt with much more like victims and witnesses rather than suspected terrorists, which was a relief to Jack. There was still a lot of anti-shifter prejudice, even among people who should know better. He took another sip of the rehydration fluid and sighed. He still hadn't really let himself think about the lasting implications of all that had happened to him these past few days. And now wasn't the time, either.

Michelle approached him then, accompanied by a few SWAT officers whom Jack didn't know. “Jack,” Michelle said, with a quick smile, “how are you feeling?”

“Better,” he replied, returning the smile, “thanks to you and your team.”

She smiled again, but then changed the subject. “Are you up for a quick ID of the SRN leadership we have in custody? District wants us to be sure all of the top-ranking lieutenants are accounted for.”

Jack nodded and jumped down from the ambulance. “I don't know all of them on sight, but I'll do what I can. Do we have photos of the casualties of the attack?”

“It's in process,” Michelle said. “Should be ready by the time you've finished with the ones in custody.”

They walked back to the building, to one of the smaller rooms that was being used as a temporary holding cell. “You've made sure to secure the prisoners in a way that won't let them shift to escape?” Jack asked as they got to the door. Handcuffs would not be enough if one of them really were motivated to break free, Jack knew.

“Yes, sir,” one of the SWAT officers answered. “Not only are all of the prisoners under constant guard, but we've administered a light sedative that has been shown to keep shifters conscious but unable to shift.”

Jack absorbed that piece of information as the door was opened for them. There were seven shifters inside: six men and one woman. Each of them was cuffed to their own chair. The woman, Jack recognized right away as Hunter's girlfriend. She recognized him as well and glared at him. “ _Traître,_ ” she spat, though her movement toward him was halted both by her cuffs and, Jack assumed, the effects of the sedative.

“That's Hunter's girlfriend, female companion, whatever,” Jack said to Michelle and the others. “I only heard her first name, Ginny.”

“That must be Virginie Leclerc,” said the man who had spoken before, scanning through a file folder on a table in the room. “Moved to LA from Ontario, originally from France.”

Jack moved on and identified Ben and Nelson. From there, he was able to state with confidence only that two of the remaining men were also SRN soldiers, as they had been among those who escorted the CTU agents to the arena. “I don't know these last two,” he finished. He turned to Michelle. “Is Hunter dead?”

Michelle's eyes widened. “You mean, that's not him?” She pointed at one of the two men Jack didn't recognize at all. There was some faint resemblance between him and the shifter leader – he was about the same height and build, and had the same dark brown hair color – but it was definitely not Hunter. The shifter in question just sneered.

Jack shook his head, and despite his fatigue he felt a flood of adrenaline. “No. Hunter must have managed to escape somehow during the chaos of the raid.” He met Michelle's eyes, aware that she might be getting some images from his mind of what kind of a man they were dealing with. “We have to find him.”

She looked grim as the group left the holding cell. She radioed in with the various other team leaders, passing on the bad news and telling them to stay on alert. “The suspect should be considered armed and exceptionally dangerous, as he has very little to lose at this point. We want him alive if possible, but it's not a requirement.”

“I'll help track him down,” said Jack. It wasn't a suggestion, and thankfully Michelle didn't take it as one. She did tell him to pick up a walkie-talkie and a gun at the command center first, which he was only too happy to do. He didn't bother with a flashlight, since his night vision was one of the senses heightened by becoming a shifter.

The building had been cleared of all hostiles that were not subdued, and guards were posted at all entrances. Each of these guards had checked in within the past five minutes. It wasn't likely that Hunter would return there, Jack thought.

He was about to circle around the building toward a ravine, the nearest likely terrain for hiding, when he stopped suddenly. There was something … not even a scent, exactly, but he knew that Hunter was somewhere behind him, over near the arena. He turned that direction. “I'm heading toward the arena, on the south side of the building,” he radioed.

As he got nearer to the arena, the sensation got stronger. His pulse sped up as well. “Hunter,” he called out, “we know you're out here. If you surrender now, you get to stay alive.”

There was no response. Nothing moved. Jack made his way silently to one corner of the outer wall of the structure. Now he could detect the scent of blood nearby. He listened hard, but there was still nothing other than a breeze rattling some leaves along the ground. Taking a breath, he stepped around the corner, gun at the ready. There was a fallen SWAT officer sprawled halfway against the wall, his throat slashed open. From the amount of blood Jack could see, the man was most likely dead. Jack was about to radio in this news when he heard a sound behind him, and spun back around with his gun raised.

At that exact moment, Hunter jumped down from the top of the wall above him. The other shifter impacted into Jack, knocking him to the ground and causing his weapon to fall from his hand. Before Jack could recover his breath, Hunter pulled him to his feet again. “I don't want your telepath friend to be able to follow you this time,” he said, eyes gleaming. He looked more crazed than Jack had ever seen him. “I want to be able to kill you without anyone interrupting.” Then he slammed Jack's head into the concrete wall, and the world went dark.

Jack started to wake up in snatches. He was being dragged along the ground, and whoever was doing this didn't seem to care much if Jack hit rocks or other painfully hard objects in the process. There was something he needed to be doing … but he couldn't think. His head hurt too much.

_Jack? Is everything all right?_

Someone was trying to talk to him. Jack opened his eyes, but he couldn't see anyone. _Jack!_ The blackness rose up to overwhelm him again.

An unknown amount of time later, Jack was brought back to consciousness by a splash of cold water on his face. He blinked rapidly. He was lying on his back, his hands cuffed again, this time to a handrail behind him. He guessed they had to be on the grounds of the arena somewhere. Hunter was standing over him, the same maddened light in his eyes as he tossed a water bottle aside with one hand. The other hand was holding a large hunting knife. “Did you think you were going to go back to your old life now?” the man hissed. “Did you think your old friends would just accept you like they did before? It's not going to happen, Jack! They'd hate you and fear you, and call you a freak, a monster.” He bent closer. “Oh, I'm sure you'd keep your CTU job,” he continued. “The government can always find use for people like us. But they'd think of you like their trained animal, and treat you like one.”

Jack tried desperately to clear away the pain that was clouding his mind. He needed to be able to focus. “So what then – you're going to kill me to spare me from that experience?”

Hunter bared his teeth. “No. I'm just reminding you that it's not worth it to try to escape,” he said. “I'm going to kill you because you tried to take down my group.”

“I didn't just try,” Jack pointed out. He heard the sound of a helicopter from above them, but he and Hunter were under an overhang of some kind. “It's done. It's over. You're not the leader of anything anymore.”

“We'll see,” was all Hunter said. Then he walked around behind Jack so he could put the knife to his throat. “I'm thinking that your friend the telepath would make a very interesting member of my new group,” he remarked in an almost conversational tone, as he pressed the blade of the knife ever so slightly into Jack's skin. “I've been watching her work. Can you imagine the benefit to a shifter group if even one of the members could talk to the rest while they were transformed? I think I'll find her next.”

“You son of a bitch!” Jack growled. He could imagine it all too well. Heedless of the knife blade scoring deeper into his throat, he struggled to face the man. “Don't--” Further words were abruptly choked off by the knife. He closed his eyes. If he were lucky, Hunter would deliver the killing stroke quickly … but he doubted it.

“Drop the knife!”

A flashlight beam suddenly shone at Jack and Hunter. Jack squinted at it, as the knife's pressure was slowly removed. It was Michelle – and to Jack's dismay, she was by herself. “No!” he tried to call out, but with the damage to his throat it was sheer agony to use his voice. _Michelle!_ he thought, as urgently as he could. _Hunter's going to try to turn you. Get out of here and get backup, now!_

He saw her eyes widen slightly, but she stood firm with her gun and light aimed at Hunter. “Hands on your head and get on your knees,” she ordered him. _Curtis is already on the way. I'll call for more help, but I can't run now,_ she told Jack. _He'll kill you if I leave – and besides, I'm sure he can run faster than I can._

Jack's heart sank. She was right about that, no doubt. _You shoot him, then, if he comes at you,_ he said, knowing she knew this. Then he coughed, and grimaced at the further agony this produced in his throat. He was losing a lot of blood, although he was fairly sure Hunter hadn't yet damaged an artery when he had been interrupted. But it was still getting harder to stay alert.

“I'm glad to get a chance to talk with you in person,” Hunter was saying to Michelle. He had put down the knife and raised his hands, but had made no move to get on his knees.

“I will not be providing you with your own telepath to help you found a new group of terrorists,” Michelle cut in. “In fact, I will kill you if you come any closer. Now get on your knees.”

It was not easy to see exactly what was going on from his angle lying on the ground, but Jack watched as well as he could. Hunter began to crouch down. It was not to kneel, though. _He's shifting!_

The next instant, Michelle had fired her weapon as Hunter leaped at her, in mid-transformation. Jack wasn't sure if the bullet had found its mark, but it hadn't stopped Hunter either way. Michelle dodged aside, and now the action was starting to take place out of Jack's line of sight. Any attempt to move so he could see pulled at the deep gash on his throat. But at least he hadn't heard Michelle scream; she must be holding her own.

Jack couldn't see or hear any motion from either Michelle or Hunter now. He blinked and coughed again, tasting blood. He thought Michelle might be saying something to Hunter telepathically, though what he could 'overhear' didn't make a lot of sense. Was she attacking him in some way?

Moments later, Michelle was speaking to Hunter out loud. Hunter was – he squinted. It looked like he was in human form again. That was probably a good thing.

_Jack, are you all right?_ She had moved closer to him.

He almost tried to speak again, remembering just in time why that was a bad idea. _I'm … I'm okay,_ he thought. There was something he should warn her about. _Don't get too close. I could infect you._

Before Michelle could reply, footsteps approached from beyond her. She turned toward the sound. In horror, Jack tried to sit up. _No!_ Hunter had grabbed the knife again. He was going for Michelle – until a shot struck him in the side of the head and he fell. It was Curtis, coming into view from around a corner.

Sinking back to the ground in relief and newly awakened pain from both his head and the wound on his throat, Jack didn't try to move again. Curtis was the one who unlocked the handcuffs and radioed for medical assistance. “Hold on, Jack,” he said, crouching next to his friend and tearing a strip of cloth from something Jack couldn't see to press it carefully over Jack's throat. “We'll get you fixed up.”

Jack met Curtis's eyes for a few seconds. Then, as there were sounds of more people rushing to their location, the world started to go gray around the edges. This time, Jack welcomed unconsciousness with the relief from pain it brought.

~

When he woke up this time, Jack was in a hospital bed, pleasantly free from pain. There was an IV line in the back of his left hand, and he was hooked up to a few monitors of various kinds. As memory returned, he reached cautiously up with his right hand to feel his throat. There was a large, soft bandage covering the entire injury.

Just then, the door to his room opened, and his daughter walked in. Her face lit up when she saw he was awake. “Dad!” She hurried to his side and took his hand.

Jack smiled at her. He was about to open his mouth to greet her when she shook her head. “No, Dad, the doctor says you're not supposed to try to speak for at least the rest of the day,” she told him. She looked down, but then smiled at him again. “But don't worry – they did a really good job getting you all stitched up, and they said you shouldn't even have a noticeable scar.”

He could tell she was upset, although genuinely happy that he was recovering well. He wished he could reassure her. Gently, he took his hand out of hers and mimed writing.

“Oh, yeah, I can get you some paper and a pen.” Kim turned away to her purse, rummaged around in it for a while, and pulled out a notepad. She handed this and a pen to him.

_I'm glad to see you, sweetheart,_ he wrote first of all, and she beamed at him again. Then he started a new line. _How long have I been here? When did you get here?_

“Chloe called me about four hours ago,” Kim informed him. She glanced at her watch. “It's, uh, just after eight in the morning now. I think Chloe said they brought you in at three thirty.”

Jack nodded. He picked up the pen again. _What have you heard about what happened?_

Kim frowned, her distress becoming more obvious. “Chloe said you'd been called in to help with a raid on what was supposed to be the base for that Shifter Rights Now terrorist group – that one that's been behind a lot of recent attacks. She said you had been captured and held prisoner, and that you'd been hurt.” She look at him squarely in the eyes and took a deep breath. “She didn't come right out and say it, but I'm guessing she wasn't only talking about your throat and the concussion. Did those people-- are you a shifter now?”

Jack hesitated for just a second, breaking her gaze. Then he nodded. He wasn't going to try to hide this from her.

His daughter swallowed. “Okay,” she said, keeping her voice level with obvious effort. Then she sniffed and swiped at a tear on her face. “Oh my God, Dad. I'm so sorry!”

She was crying in earnest now, and Jack quickly pulled her into a hug. “It's all right, sweetheart,” he whispered, despite the pain this caused his throat. He closed his eyes. “I'm okay.”

After a few moments, Kim pulled away from him and wiped her eyes again. “All right, um, I'm supposed to make sure you rest,” she said. She was about to get up off the edge of his bed, but he gently took her arm. While she waited, Jack wrote, _I can rest while you're here. I want to have a chance to talk with you._

Kim nodded, bringing the chair closer to his bed. “Well, in that case, I have a question I'd like to ask you, Dad.”

He had a feeling he knew what was coming, but he gestured for her to go ahead.

Now letting her anger show, she asked, “Why did you agree to come out here and work with CTU again? I thought you were done with this – I thought you were happy at your DC job with Secretary Heller!”

Jack sighed and picked up the pen again. Being unable to actually speak with his daughter was getting old fast. _I know,_ he wrote. _I was,_ he crossed that out, _I_ am _happy with my job in DC. But Tony got involved in CTU's attempts to track down the leader of this branch of SRN, and when he found out I was in town meeting with Director Driscoll, he recommended that I be called in to help._

“So I should blame Tony for this?” said Kim, but without real force. It was her turn to sigh. “Okay, I do get that you'd want to help Tony, especially after … everything. But...” She looked down at her hands and continued, “I was just starting to get used to not worrying about you all the time.”

Jack's heart clenched painfully at how small her voice sounded. He thought for several seconds before writing again. _I'm sorry. I don't know how things are going to go for me after this,_ he told her honestly. He didn't think the Secretary would let him go just because he was a shifter, but it would have to be a factor from now on. And there were other issues to consider as well. He wondered how much Heller and Audrey had already been told about what had happened. Neither of them had called as far as he knew, so perhaps they hadn't been updated yet. But that seemed unlikely...

Kim raised an eyebrow. “You don't know? Does that mean you're actually thinking about sticking around at CTU some more?”

_I didn't say that,_ Jack wrote. He paused and met her eyes before going on. _It may be that I don't have a lot of other options, though. There are people who would not want to see a shifter as Secretary Heller's special assistant._

Kim read this, and looked outraged. “What?! But the Secretary wouldn't fire you just for-- for something you didn't have any control over, would he?”

He shook his head. _I don't believe he would want to. But you know he has a very important job, and sometimes he has to listen to people who he doesn't agree with._

She was quiet for a while, thinking. Then finally she nodded. “Okay. I understand.”

_How are you doing?_ Jack wrote then. _And Chase and Angela?_

“We're all doing well,” Kim answered with a smile. “Chase sends his regards and wanted me to tell you he hopes you get well soon. He's looking after Angela right now, or he would have come, too.”

A moment later, a doctor came into the room and introduced herself as Dr. Peng. The next several minutes were spent with the doctor telling Jack he had received a blood transfusion when he was brought in, confirming what Kim had reported about his prognosis, and then her answering Jack's question about Agent Owen (he had gone through surgery and was doing fine, in stable condition).

“Now, about your meals for the next few days,” Dr. Peng said. The mention of food forced Jack to notice how incredibly hungry he was. “They'll need to be soft, even liquid if possible, until the lining of your esophagus has healed completely. And I understand you're in your first few days of being a shifter?” At his nod, she told him she would send him home with a packet of information about his new dietary requirements and other things that might be useful in helping him adjust. Although he could tell the doctor wasn't a shifter, Jack was pleased not to sense any judgment or pity from her during their interaction.

Before she left, Jack asked Dr. Peng via his notepad when he might be discharged. Her answer was that if everything continued to look as good as it was looking now, he would very likely be discharged after lunch. Then she left the Bauers with the promise that she would make sure breakfast got to them right away.

Shortly after the two of them had eaten (with Kim teasing her father both about the unappetizing appearance of the lukewarm soup they brought for him, and about how much of it he had eaten), there was a knock on the door. A nurse came in. “Mr. Bauer? There's a call for you at the front desk. It's the Secretary of Defense.” She looked at Jack's bandaged throat, and then at Kim. “Should I put it through to your room phone? Can your daughter--”

“I can do the talking, if that's okay, Dad,” said Kim immediately.

Sighing a little in frustration, Jack signaled his agreement. Of course, this would mean he would have to save the heavier topics of conversation for a later day, but his boss would understand.

Moments later, the phone on the bedside table rang, and Kim picked it up. “This is Kim Bauer.”

“Kim, this is James Heller,” came the Secretary's voice. Jack had no trouble hearing it. “Is your father awake? May I speak with him, please?”

“Yes, he's awake,” replied Kim, “but unfortunately his doctor has instructed that he try not to use his voice at all for the rest of the day if possible, to give his throat injury a chance to heal. If it's all right with you, sir, I can relay what my dad writes in response to what you say.”

The Secretary was silent for a few seconds. “All right, we can do that,” he said at last. “Thanks, Kim. Can he hear me all right, or can you put me on speaker?”

Jack quickly mouthed, “I can hear him,” and Kim passed that along.

“Okay. Jack, how are you feeling? By the way, Audrey is here and you're on speaker on my end.”

Aware that his daughter had probably noticed his quick flicker of reaction to this news, Jack wrote that he was doing well and expected to be allowed to leave the hospital after lunch. Heller was glad to hear this, as was Audrey.

“I want to start out by apologizing for not calling to check in on you sooner, Jack,” Heller said next. “We were getting updates from CTU as often as we could, but there was a situation early this morning in DC that required my attention.”

Jack assured the Secretary he didn't need to apologize, and asked if the situation had been resolved.

“Yes, it's fine,” Heller replied, sounding like he might be smiling slightly. “I'll tell you more details next time we see each other face-to-face.” He changed the subject. “So, I heard from Ms. Dessler at CTU about the first attempt to take down the SRN base, during which you and two other agents were captured. I'm so sorry that happened to you. On the other hand, Ms. Dessler also told me how instrumental you were in the success of the second raid, and that as a result the LA branch of this terror group is effectively shut down. Sounds like you did a hell of a job, Jack. Well done.”

Kim passed along Jack's thanks. Heller was about to start saying his farewells when Jack heard Audrey interrupt quietly in the background of the call. “Oh, yes, I almost forgot. Thanks, Audrey. Ms. Dessler thought you might want to know that CTU was able to dig up some more information on the leader of this SRN group, the man who called himself Hunter. His real name was Dylan Huntsman, and he was reported missing from his home in Michigan in the months after the Tumult. Eventually the police found evidence that suggested he had been kidnapped by shifters, and then they lost his trail after that. But the shifter groups in that area experienced an upsurge in acts of violence soon after.”

That made all too much sense. Jack doubted Hunter – or Huntsman, as he should call him – had started out his adult life totally stable. He wouldn't be surprised if they were to learn that the man had been one of the rare people who actually sought out shifter groups in order to be turned. All he had Kim say was thanks for the information, though.

“All right, Jack, we'll let you get some rest now,” the Secretary said. “Glad to hear you're recovering well. I'll try to see if we can fly out there this afternoon.”

Jack quickly wrote that they didn't need to come out to him – he would be happy to fly out to them in DC as soon as he could pack his things after leaving the hospital. Kim gave him a look when she read this, but dutifully relayed his response.

“Don't even think about getting on a plane today, Jack.” It was Audrey's voice, and she sounded exasperated, with a faint hint of affection underneath. Jack couldn't help smiling a little. “My father and I will be fine without you here for as much time as you need to take to get well.”

“That's right, Jack,” said Heller. He sounded amused. “Listen to Audrey, and take as much time as you need. We'll be out there when we can get away.”

Jack thanked them both, and they said goodbye after thanking Kim for her help. When Kim hung up, Jack took a breath and leaned back against the headboard. He was suddenly tired. He wished he had been able to really talk with his boss and with Audrey, but this had been much better than nothing. And his daughter was here with him.

“I think you should get some more sleep now, Dad,” Kim said, walking over to kiss him on the forehead. “I'll be right here when you wake up, okay?”

“Okay,” he whispered. _Thank you, honey,_ he wrote.

“You're welcome.” She took the pad and pen away. “Now, go to sleep.”

It didn't take him long to comply.

~

Jack's sleep was just beginning to shift from dreamless to the polar opposite when he was awakened by sounds of conversation nearby. For a brief and highly unpleasant moment, Jack didn't know where he was – but then he recognized his daughter's voice, and the voices of Tony and Michelle. He relaxed. The remnants of whatever dream had been starting faded quickly, which he did not regret.

A few seconds later, Kim came back into his room. “Hey, Dad,” she greeted him. “Are you up for some visitors? Michelle and Tony are here.”

He nodded and sat up. His friends entered the room then, both of them looking happy to see him. Although Kim was ready to offer him the notepad again, she stopped when she noticed that Jack opted to let Michelle interpret for him telepathically.

They had a conversation that must have been extremely strange to Tony and Kim, since only Michelle could 'hear' his side of it. Jack learned that CTU was still sifting through evidence they had found at the SRN base, and he assured Michelle he would be very willing to help with the investigation if he ended up staying in LA for a while.

Tony asked whether Secretary Heller had contacted Jack directly. _Yeah, he said he'd fly in later today, with..._ Jack trailed off, not sure how much he wanted to share about Audrey yet.

Michelle gave him a questioning look, but when he shook his head a little, she passed on what he'd said. “Is he going to stop by CTU?” she asked out loud. “Should we be ready to brief him?”

_He didn't say,_ Jack thought. He wished he had thought to ask. But in the meantime, Michelle and Tony shouldn't have to wait around at CTU on the chance that the Secretary did come by. Heller knew how to contact them, after all. As he thought about this, Jack suddenly realized that his friends had arrived together, and much of the bitterness that he had seen in Tony earlier was gone. Doing his best not to let Michelle pick up on what he had just guessed, he thought to her, _You should get some rest while you can, though._

After Michelle relayed this to Tony, Jack thought of another question he wanted to ask her. He hadn't been able to see what she had done to take down Hunter. He framed the question, adding, _Whatever you did took him down fast._

She blushed faintly. At Tony's query, she said, “He's asking how I stopped Hunter.”

“Yeah, how did you?” Tony asked, glancing from Jack to her again. “Curtis said you went after him alone.”

There was a moment's pause. Then Michelle, not meeting anyone's eyes, said, “Let's just say telepathic abilities aren't just good for listening and communication. I've learned how to use them in an offensive attack, as well.” Jack and Tony stared at her in astonishment and admiration, as did Kim. _It's not pretty, but it works,_ she said silently.

Jack didn't have a clear recollection of everything that had happened just before Hunter was killed, but he knew if Michelle hadn't arrived when she did, he wouldn't have made it out alive. _You saved my life,_ he thought, meeting her eyes. _Thank you._

_I'm just glad I got there in time,_ Michelle said in response. Then, sounding tentative, she continued, _I'm sorry it wasn't soon enough to stop everything that happened to you in there._

Jack dropped his gaze. Everything … he wondered exactly what she was referring to, how much she knew. There were things from the past few days he had hoped no one else would ever know about. _You saw?_

She admitted that without meaning to, she had overheard his recent memories when she had first been looking for him. Jack could say nothing in response to that, although he was sure that in spite of his best efforts right now, she was sensing a lot from him that he would rather she didn't.

_Look, Jack,_ she said, _I'm not trying to embarrass you. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I just thought you should know that I know, and I'm sorry._

Jack took a deep breath. He thought he knew now what Michelle was trying to say, and he could appreciate it. Into what was no doubt a strained, awkward silence, Kim spoke up. “You guys okay?”

Jack answered Michelle before she said anything. _I understand, Michelle. Tell Kim we're fine._

Shortly after that, Michelle and Tony took their leave. Jack was not in the least surprised when, as soon as the door closed behind them, Kim asked, “What was that, at the end there? Did Michelle say something that upset you?”

Reaching for the notepad, Jack explained, _No. She was just trying to tell me she was sorry I had to go through all this – and it turns out her being a telepath means she accidentally saw some of my memories of what happened._

Kim's eyes widened. “Oh. Well, that had to be kind of awkward for both of you.”

He smiled wryly. _You could say that._

“But she and Tony seemed … happy, didn't they?”

At that, Jack simply took her hand and nodded. He certainly would be happy for the two of them if they managed to make it work this time around. If they could, maybe it wasn't too farfetched to hope that he and Audrey could do the same.

~


	6. Six

A half hour after the raid was over, they had confirmed that Hunter was not among the dead. Jack took this as a personal insult, and was obviously determined to be the one to get him. But when Michelle asked over comms if Jack had made any progress, he didn't answer her. And then she asked around to find out if anyone else knew where he was, no one else had an answer, either.

“What the hell do you mean, he's gone?” Michelle demanded. “I just spoke to him a few minutes ago!”

“I don't know what happened,” said the last agent she'd spoken to. “But nobody can find him.”

“Chloe,” Michelle asked into her comm. “Do we still have satellite on the SRN compound?”

“Yes. What's going on?” Chloe said.

“Jack thought he knew where Hunter might be, and now he's disappeared,” she said. “He was last seen heading for the open area on the south side of the building.”

“Okay, I'll start looking,” Chloe said. “Can't you find him? You know, with your mind?”

Michelle pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Believe me, I've been trying. And I'll keep trying. Just let me know if the satellite turns up anything.”

“Yeah,” said Chloe, signing off.

Michelle almost didn't hear her, because she thought she'd picked something up. _Jack? Is everything all right?_ She wasn't completely sure, but it felt like him. Something was wrong though. He was in pain, and his mind was fogged. _Jack!_ But she'd lost him again. “Damn it!”

“What's wrong?” the other agent asked.

“I thought I'd found him,” she explained. “If it was him, that means he's still close by. He may have been knocked unconscious, in which case we have to assume Hunter could have taken him by surprise and captured him.” Again, she added to herself, clenching her teeth. She called in this update to everyone still in the area. After quickly summarizing the situation, and went on, “I am now tasking everyone still here who is not guarding or transporting prisoners with the mission of finding Jack Bauer. We can assume Hunter is currently wherever he is, and I don't need to remind you that Jack is the main reason we were able to successfully take down one of the biggest SRN bases in the country today. We'll start on the south side and fan out from there. Let's go.”

She found herself accompanied by Curtis, who seemed as grimly determined as she was. Having had some experience with the arena, he had some suggestions about where someone might hide a prisoner. Accordingly, she, Curtis, and a few other agents headed to the side of the field opposite from them. She also had a LAPD chopper rerouted overhead, shining spotlights over the place.

Chloe informed them a minute later that they'd seen something on the infrared – movement of at least two people exiting the arena area on the side opposite where Michelle and Curtis were currently. They all started to move in – and then suddenly Michelle felt something. It was Jack, and the feeling did not originate from where Chloe had indicated. She almost called out mentally to him again, but the extreme pain she could sense coming from him was so great that she didn't want to add any kind of stress.

Thinking quickly, she broke off from the group and turned toward where she sensed him. As she ran, she could feel Jack's pain and fear ratchet up – as well as his anger. Hunter did in fact have him captured, that much was certain. She unholstered her weapon and slowed as the sense of him got closer. It was getting hard to maintain concentration on Jack's mind while he was experiencing such intense pain. Michelle did spare a quick thought to let Curtis know that Jack wasn't where Chloe had suggested, but she only had enough time and attention to send him a quick image of where she was before she had to focus on what was in front of her.

It was in that mindset that she almost stumbled over a body. Heart in her throat, she shone her flashlight down and saw that it was a SWAT officer. His throat was slashed, and the amount of blood coating his neck and pooling beneath him was enough to make her stomach rebel. She took a deep breath and released it. There was nothing she could do for him. She had to keep moving.

In another few steps, she began to be able to hear a voice. It had to be Hunter's, since she didn't recognize it. Just yards ahead of her, the field ended and there was an overhang above an old ramp leading down to what had been the parking lot for this place. It was steeper than she expected, which meant that her view would have been obscured even if it had been full daylight.

Quietly, keeping her flashlight beam low, Michelle moved forward. She made it down one length of the ramp and paused at the bend. Then she couldn't wait any longer, because she was feeling Jack brace himself for death. She whipped around the corner, flashlight up next to her gun, and saw Hunter with a knife pressed to Jack's throat. “Drop the knife!” she yelled.

He did so, although even a surface reading of the shifter leader's mind informed her that he was past the point of listening to reason, and was still likely to be very dangerous. Jack made a faint sound, and she swallowed as she saw the blood dripping from his neck. He could survive that, right? The fact that both Jack's and Hunter's eyes gleamed an eerie green in the beam of her flashlight did not help steady her nerves.

_Michelle!_ Jack's mental voice was suddenly clear in her head as she kept her gun steadily on Hunter. _Hunter's going to try to turn you. Get out of here and get backup, now!_

She froze for an instant, but didn't waver. She ordered Hunter to put his hands on his head and get on his knees, and told Jack she had already alerted Curtis. _I'll call for more help, but I can't run now. He'll kill you if I leave – and besides, I'm sure he can run faster than I can._ Never allowing her eyes or gun to move from the shifter leader, she sent Curtis an extremely succinct summary of what was happening and asked him to get backup. Then she shut off that part of her mind so as not to be distracted.

Meanwhile, Jack had accepted her reasoning. He advised her to shoot Hunter the moment he came at her, which Michelle certainly agreed would be best. The man, who had still not knelt though his hands were on his head, was eyeing her almost hungrily. Like the crazy bastard he obviously was, she read that he had watched her as the raid was winding up, and now planned to catch her off guard by trying to butter her up first. She interrupted his spiel. “I will not be providing you with your own telepath to help you found a new group of terrorists. In fact, I will kill you if you come any closer. Now get on your knees.”

He started to crouch, but his thoughts were practically screaming his next move. If she needed the confirmation, Jack also shouted a mental warning that he was shifting. She fired. The shot hit the man, now partially in animal form, between the shoulder and neck, but he kept coming. In desperation, she flung herself out of his path and aimed a concentrated mental attack at him, ruthlessly and quickly stripping past all of his natural mental barriers. Even though his mind was structured somewhat differently in animal form, it didn't take long to make sure the attack had an effect.

Hunter, now a huge cougar, halted, ears back and eyes wide, still bleeding from the gunshot. He shook his head, but Michelle didn't relent. _If you want me to stop,_ she said, making each word a hook in her attack, _start by shifting back, and we'll see if I feel like letting up._ She could tell the pain was awful. In fact, the effort was starting to give her her own headache, although it was nothing like Hunter's. She stood and aimed her weapon again, all the while continuing to dig. What do you say? She hoped he gave in soon, if only because she didn't want to be seeing the images she was getting from his mind.

He hissed, but finally she saw him begin to shift back. Once he was fully human again, Michelle pulled back just a hint. “Good,” she spoke out loud. She glanced over to where Jack lay. “Now, don't move.” Still facing and training her flashlight and gun on the shifter leader, she took a few steps toward Jack. _Jack, are you all right?_

His mental voice didn't sound quite lucid as he answered with an uncertain affirmative. Then he added, _Don't get too close. I could infect you._

Michelle was about to reply when the sound of footsteps approaching interrupted. She turned for just a second to see who was coming, and then realized her mistake as Jack shouted, _No!_

Hunter had taken that split second to grab the knife and start to lunge for her. She turned back, trying to aim her gun again while bracing for something awful to happen – and then another shot rang out. It was Curtis, coming around the corner of the ramp just in time to shoot Hunter in the head.

Shakily, Michelle lowered her weapon and watched as Curtis unlocked Jack's handcuffs and applied a quick bandage to the wound on his throat. She shook herself out of the adrenaline-fueled daze of the last few minutes and called in to report that the situation was finally over. Her head was pounding, and she knew the memory of what she had just experienced wouldn't fade anytime soon. But at least it was done.

~~~~~~

The aftermath of the raid for Michelle passed slowly in a blur of coordinating details of prisoner transport, phone calls and meetings, and paperwork. She had made it a priority to ask Chloe to call Kim right away about her father being in the hospital, before she had returned to CTU. That way when Jack had woken up, at least she hoped he hadn't been alone.

Still, hours later, visiting him was the next item on Michelle's list. She supposed she could pretend she was going in order to debrief him, but honestly she was so exhausted that the visit probably wouldn't last for very long. But the last she had seen, he'd been unconscious and still just about bleeding through the bandage the medics on scene had applied. She wanted to see firsthand that her friend was going to be all right.

She was just handing off the last few of the top priority reports when she sensed Tony approaching. She turned. They'd talked since she got back to CTU after the raid, but hadn't had time for anything but business. Now, though, she knew it was something else. “What is it, Tony?” she asked neutrally.

“I was just thinking – it's been a long day for everyone. Nobody expects us to stick around here much longer.”

“Yeah, I'm just finishing up,” Michelle told him. “What about you?”

“Same.” Then, shifting gears, he asked, “What's the latest on Jack?”

“Last I heard, he didn't need surgery. They gave him a blood transfusion and stitched his injury,” Michelle said. “He's probably woken up by now. Kim should be with him.”

“Good,” said Tony. He looked down and tapped a few fingers against his leg.

Taking pity on him, she smiled. “God, Tony, someone really needs to teach you how to shield your thoughts. Yes, I'm planning to go visit Jack for a few minutes, and yes, I agree that we should go together.” She met his eyes, expression soft.

Tony's eyebrows rose, and she read the mixture of surprise, embarrassment, and hope on his face and in his thoughts. “Wait, so you're reading my mind right now?” He tried to sound offended, but didn't quite manage it.

She laughed quietly. “Not exactly. It's more like you're shouting your thoughts at me.” The blush spreading on his face added to his now totally flummoxed look and made her want to laugh again. “Look, let's get out of here so we can talk more privately.”

They logged out and exited in silence, though Michelle could sense the turmoil of emotions Tony was going through. She wasn't much less nervous herself, but that was ridiculous. What was there to be nervous about? This was Tony, and even though she'd had her doubts before...

He broke the silence. “Michelle, if you – saw, or heard, or whatever, you probably know I'm going to say this, but I'm going to say it anyway: I'm sorry for the way I acted. After prison, everything was falling apart and I didn't even try-”

“I'm sorry, too,” Michelle cut in. “You weren't the only one who could have handled it better.”

Tony shook his head. “You don't owe me any apology. I didn't give you much of a choice.”

She paused, then nodded slowly. “Okay. So what now?”

“I don't know,” he said softly. “I don't know if I'm even going to be allowed to come back to CTU after today, and I'm not sure what I'd say if they asked me.”

“What do you mean?” Michelle said.

“I just can't help thinking that we both know the kind of toll this job takes on people. Relationships, especially. I haven't made any concrete plans yet, but if you want to come with me, I'm thinking about giving this up. Starting over, doing something new.” He paused, then met her eyes firmly. “Together.”

Michelle's eyes widened. That, she had not seen coming. “Starting over? Where? What would we do?”

“Like I said, I'm not sure yet. It's just an idea at this point.”

“But it's only if I want to come with you?” Michelle asked.

Tony nodded. “Yeah.”

“I've never thought about doing anything else,” she admitted. She felt his disappointment. “No, I'm not saying no, Tony. Just let me think about it, okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed. “Now we should probably get going before someone wonders what we're doing standing in the parking lot.”

“Right,” she said, and they started walking. Before they had gotten more than a few yards, however, she stopped again. “Tony, I really didn't mean to read your thoughts back there.”

He stopped and turned around, a faint smile on his lips. “Don't worry about it.” She must have looked skeptical, because he went on. “I'm serious. You caught me off guard, I'll admit – but I don't have anything to hide from you.”

“Okay,” said Michelle, touched. They continued on to Michelle's car, because it was closest, but before either of them got in she grabbed his arm. “One more thing,” she said quietly, then put both of her hands on his face and kissed him.

He immediately responded. “God, I missed you,” he said between breaths.

_Me, too,_ she said mentally. He paused, startled, and Michelle cursed herself for freaking him out. “Sorry,” she said out loud, flushing and starting to turn away.

“No, don't be sorry,” he said quickly, pulling her back and deliberately kissing her again until her knees went weak. When they broke apart, his hands still in her hair, he cleared his throat and said, “Now we really should go visit Jack, before we get too distracted.”

She snorted a laugh. “Yeah.”

They got in the car and Michelle started it and backed out of the spot. As she was pulling out of the lot, Tony said, “I'm looking forward to making sure Jack's okay, but maybe we should make this a short visit.”

“I'm sure he's tired,” Michelle agreed, “and wants to spend time with Kim.”

“It's just unfortunate for you that no matter how short it is, I'll probably have... certain things on my mind, and you apparently won't be able to stop yourself from hearing about it,” Tony said, one eyebrow raised as she glanced at him sideways.

She flushed again as he purposefully gave her an example. “That is not fair. I'm driving!”

“All right, all right,” he relented, grinning. “But I make no promises about later.”

~~~~~~

They arrived at the hospital around 10:00am and found out where Jack's room was. They slowed as they got close. Through the window, they could see that Jack was asleep, an IV in his arm and a (thankfully not reddened) bandage across his throat. “Should we knock?” Tony asked quietly. “I don't want to wake him up.”

Kim Bauer, who had been sitting in the chair next to her father's hospital bed, looked up at that moment. Her face brightened, and she stood and opened the door, closing it behind her as she exited. “Tony, Michelle! It's good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too, Kim,” Michelle said. She returned the younger woman's hug with a smile. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” Kim said. “And Dad's doing great. The doctor said he might be able to go home this afternoon.”

“That's great news,” Tony said.

“Yeah.” Kim's relief was palpable. “Are you guys okay? I didn't hear any details about the raid today except that you were involved, Michelle. I didn't even know Tony was back at CTU.”

“We're both fine,” Michelle said. “And Tony was asked to step in on a provisional basis. Like your dad, actually.”

They exchanged another minute or so of small talk – Kim said she'd pass on their greetings to Chase – but Michelle was just wondering if she should suggest that she and Tony come back another time when she felt a brief instant of panic from inside Jack's room, and broke off in the middle of a sentence to look through the window. “He's awake,” she said. Whatever it had been, Jack seemed to calm down immediately afterward.

Kim frowned. “How did you know that?”

Michelle let out a breath. “Well, it's not a secret, so I'll tell you: I'm a telepath now.”

“That's part of the way she was able to find your dad today,” Tony put in.

Kim looked gobsmacked, but recovered reasonably quickly. “Wow. Uh, okay.” She blinked. “Then, um, thanks for finding him.”

“You're welcome,” Michelle said.

“I'll go see if Dad's up for some visitors,” Kim said, after a pause.

He was, and the two of them went in, shutting the door after. “Jack, you're looking better than when I last saw you,” Michelle said. She smiled.

_Yeah,_ Jack told her. _Feeling much better._

Kim had grabbed a notepad and pen, but stopped as Michelle told Tony what Jack had said. Her eyes widened again. “Oh. Right.”

_Did you get anything more from the SRN base? I heard from Secretary Heller that we have a positive identification on Dylan Huntsman,_ Jack said.

“We're still sifting through evidence,” Michelle answered. “I don't think we'll get much, but we're hopeful that some of the base's archived security footage might show if Huntsman met with anyone of interest.”

Jack nodded. _I don't know how much longer I'll be around LA, but if I do stay for a while, I'll help in any way that I can._

“Thanks. I'd appreciate whatever you can do,” Michelle said. Then she noticed the blank expressions on the faces of the other two. “Sorry about that.”

“It's like listening to one end of a very weird phone call,” said Kim.

“That sounds about right,” said Tony wryly.

Michelle laughed, and Jack smiled. She explained, “He just wanted to know if we had any updates on the aftermath of the raid.”

“So has Secretary Heller contacted you?” Tony asked Jack.

Michelle listened and then explained, “Apparently he's coming in later today. Is he going to stop by CTU? Should we be ready to brief him?”

He didn't say, Jack told her. He glanced between her and Tony. You should get some rest while you can, though. Michelle passed that on.

_Michelle,_ said Jack before anyone spoke again, _how did you stop Hunter out there tonight? I couldn't see, but whatever you did took him down fast._

Michelle blushed slightly. “He's asking how I stopped Hunter.”

“Yeah, how did you?” Tony asked. “Curtis said you went after him alone.”

Kim kept quiet, but Michelle felt her curiosity. She cleared her throat. “Let's just say, telepathic abilities aren't just good for listening and communication. I've learned how to use them in an offensive attack, as well.” _It's not pretty, but it works,_ she added mentally to an intrigued Jack and Tony. Kim's silent, _Holy shit!_ as she took in Michelle's audible statement made her repress a smile.

_You saved my life,_ Jack told her. _Thank you._

_I'm just glad I got there in time,_ Michelle said. She hesitated a moment. _I'm sorry it wasn't soon enough to stop everything that happened to you in there._

He stilled and looked away. _You saw?_

_I kind of overheard some of your recent memories, when I first found you,_ she admitted. He didn't say anything for a few seconds, and she could tell he was ashamed. She almost wished she hadn't brought it up, but he shouldn't have to carry all of that alone. _Look, Jack, I'm not trying to embarrass you. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I just thought you should know that I know, and I'm sorry._

“You guys okay?” Kim said, breaking what Michelle belatedly realized had been a rather extended pause for her and Tony. She had also clearly noticed her father looking uncomfortable.

_I understand, Michelle,_ Jack said. _Tell Kim we're fine._

Michelle did so, relieved that he'd grasped her intent. “Sorry about that.” She didn't explain what the other two hadn't heard. “Well, I guess we should let you get some rest, Jack. Let me know if you need anything.”

He nodded.

“That goes for you, too, Kim,” Tony put in. They said their goodbyes, and left Jack to recuperate. As they left the hospital, Tony asked, “What did you say to Jack in there?”

“We were talking about... what happened to him at the SRN base. I saw some of it, accidentally,” Michelle explained. She took a breath. “It was awful, Tony.”

He took her hand. “I'm sorry.”

She shook her head. “I'm not the one who actually lived through it.”

“He'll be okay,” Tony said.

“I know,” she said. She took another breath and let it out slowly. “But it made me think. Look what Jack had to go through these past few days – and earlier this week, he was at a desk job, far away from all this. How many more times can any of us expect to go through something like this and make it out?”

Tony squeezed her hand. “I don't have an answer for that.”

“Because there isn't one,” she said. “So, I'm ready. Once the dust has settled from this case, I want to go. With you, I mean, to... wherever we're going.”

Tony's answer was to pull her into another kiss. _Good,_ he told her silently.

Michelle could feel that he hadn't been sure she would agree, or be willing to give him another chance. The depth of guilt he carried for driving her away was something they were going to have to work on. But meanwhile, uppermost in his thoughts was something else entirely, as he'd promised. And she didn't need any persuading.


End file.
